The Other Child Spy
by JoshMCo
Summary: Alex Rider thought he was the only child to be a spy. He was wrong. There was another. While Rider got all the exciting missions, Josh Conlon got only the boring ones, such as surveillance... Soon, he'll be wishing for surveillance. Rubbish at summaries, so please read! Also, please review! Rated T to be safe.
1. Surveillance in Paris: Red Moon

My name's Josh Conlon. On the surface, I'm a normal 14 year old boy on the surface. I like music, I tell jokes and I have fairly normal friends. Something about me isn't normal, though. The fact is, I'm a spy. I have been since I was eleven. I didn't enjoy it as much as most people would. It wasn't big action filled missions most of the time. In fact, it was very rarely anything but surveillance. Surveillance included setting up cameras in a target's hotel room and filling out reports on the findings. I had at least one every month, and they usually included me jetting off to another country. I enjoyed that bit for the most part, but I did miss my friends some of the time. They, of course, had no idea of his secret occupation. They couldn't, he wasn't allowed to tell them. He had signed the Official Secrets Act to stop him from doing that. It hurt him not to be able to tell them. Whenever he had to go away, he told them he was in hospital. His friends always found it suspicious but never spoke up. Today, unfortunately, was one of those days.

I was sat in French, on a normal Wednesday morning. I had set off from home that day with a smile on my face, thinking it was a nice normal day. I still thought that until I looked out of the window and saw the all too familiar black saloon. I groaned, beginning the routine I did every month. I sighed and stood up, the elderly teacher eyeing me. "I need to go and speak to the office, sir." I said, quietly. All eyes on the class were on me, although this was a regular occurrence. The teacher nodded, almost unintelligibly. I left the room. As I left, a few mutters broke out, but the class got back to their work.

I tried to keep my pace steady as I approached the saloon. I opened the door and sat down in the comfortable seat. "Mark, no mission was scheduled today... I checked." I said, slightly annoyed.  
"This is an emergency." Mark Reed, my handler, replied.  
"But still surveillance?" I asked, already knowing the answer.  
"Yeah." Mark replied, sighing.  
"What's so... Emergency-like?" I asked, getting the laptop from the glove compartment.  
"Major terrorist network. We think they're planning an attack on London." Mark said, already driving off.  
"Aren't they all? You have sorted this with the school, haven't you?" I said, already opening the files that detailed the mission.  
"Yeah, MI6 sorted it." Mark said, keeping his eyes on the road.  
"We're going to Paris? GIGN involvement?" I asked, keeping my mind on business.  
"Nope. Completely solo op." Mark said.  
"So, we aren't in any danger?" I asked, unable to keep the glimmer of hope out of my voice. Mark looked at me.  
"I didn't say that." He looked back at the road, frowning slightly. "We've got a private jet fuelled and ready to go."  
"Living in the lap of luxury." I said and turned my attention back to the screen.

As we arrived at the runway, I left the car first. I walked over to George Seeve, the pilot. "Hello, George." I said, grinning.  
"Hey, Josh... Paris, huh? I've always wanted to go there."  
"You get to stay there don't you? Jet stays there, in case we need to get away quickly." I asked, curious.  
"Yeah, but I have to stay in the jet." George said, a small flicker of a smile on his face. I smiled, walking into the jet, Mark just behind me. As we entered the plush interior, Mark set himself down on a couch. He strapped himself in, though I knew from experience as soon as the jet was in the air, he'd either be doing business or sleeping like a log. I sat in one of the plush chairs and strapped myself in, laying my head back on the chair. When we finally entered the airspace, Mark did indeed fall asleep. I rolled my eyes and unstrapped myself, taking out the laptop. I did more checking on the files. There were no names in the file, most likely because they didn't know any. The file on the terrorist organisation, known as Red Moon, read this:

ORGANISATION NAME: RED MOON  
KNOWN AFFILIATES: N/A (NONE KNOWN)  
KNOWN CRIMES: SUSPECTED OF PLANTING BOMBS IN MANY MAJOR FOREIGN METROPOLITAN AREAS, ALL WORKING TOWARDS GREAT BRITAIN.  
SUSPECTED LOCATION: VARIABLE  
BACKGROUND:

Red Moon is thought to be have founded in the late 1990s. It is unknown who founded the organisation. The only proof there is such an organisation, is the evidence of a graffiti on the wall of a palace in Israel that proclaimed 'WAR NEVER ENDS! THE RED MOON ARE WATCHING.'. Less than twenty four hours later, a bomb exploded just outside the palace wall, killing over a dozen people and injuring at least fifty. This one explosion almost caused nationwide conflict as the politician who resided there, who escaped relatively uninjured, thought this was the act of a rebellion. The situation was only calmed when foreign governments stepped in and calmed everything down. Since then, the Red Moon has been very prolific, but very capable at keeping unknown. In fact, the only reason we currently know of any 'Red Moon', is because of an informant who sadly perished in a fire, suspected to have been set by a Red Moon operative. The Red Moon have continued to bomb, assassinate and blackmail major politicians but have always kept quiet.

I finished reading the file, which was unusually short. I guessed it was because we didn't really know anything about it. I sighed and tried to fall asleep myself. I failed. I groaned and sat up in my seat, looking around. I saw a drinks cabinet and walked over, getting myself a Coke. The jets were always stocked with alcohol as well, but I wasn't allowed it, by decree of Alan Blunt. I sat back down and supped on the drink, looking at the clouds below. By looking through a break in the cloud, I saw we'd just about crossed the Channel. I got up and shook Mark awake. "We're in France." I said and he nodded and sat up, getting his laptop out. I sat back in my chair and did the same, checking the hotel we were staying in. Mark waved me over and I sat opposite him.  
"Right. Time for the briefing. We're staying in he Hotel Le Meurice, which the Red Moon operatives are staying in. We're getting there a few hours before them, so we can set up all the cameras and mics we'll need to watch them. When they arrive, we'll switch everything on and write the report. Nothing should go wrong... That's not saying nothing will go wrong. This is important. We need to write _everything _down."

When we got out of the plane, there was a car waiting for us. Me and Mark both got in the back. As ever, it was comfortable. It was nice to know the government set our comfort as a rather high priority. We got to the hotel less than two hours later. It was nice, really nice. It was extremely upper class, or so it looked from the outside. The inside was no different. It was very rich. We were shown to our room and Mark left me to set up all the equipment, while he set up the equipment in the Red Moon's room. I looked at the time, 3:50 GMT. I'd forgotten to set my watch forward. With a horrible realization, I guessed Mark had too. The Red Moon were arriving at 5:00... Paris time. Mark had ten minutes. I ran from the room, in search of Mark. I found him, only halfway done, at about 3:55. "Mark. We don't have time!" I exclaimed quietly.  
"Of course we do. It's only 3:55!" He whispered sternly.  
"Yeah, England time... This is Paris time." I saw Mark's face go ashen. I heard what I guessed he'd heard. Voices coming up the corridor. I sighed and looked at him. This was going to be a tough one.


	2. Surveillance in Paris: Hidden

I looked at Mark alarmed. He put a finger to his lips and went behind the door, where he wouldn't be seen as they came in. I knew for a fact they'd close the door, if they wanted privacy, so I shook my head at Mark. All spies learn sign language for this exact situation. _I have a plan. _Mark signed to me. I sighed and looked for a place to hide. My eyes caught on the perfect place, underneath the bed. I quietly dropped to a prone position, shuffling under the bed. Mark nodded at me and signed _Good, stay there. _I rolled my eyes, having not planned to jump out at the terrorists, shouting 'SURPRISE!'. I laughed to myself about that but I tried to keep quiet. I looked at the door as it opened, then put my head down, so my eyes didn't shine and give me away. I heard the bed above me creak, meaning the occupants of the room, or at least one of them, wasn't looking in my direction. I moved, so my head was facing Mark. I had no idea how he was still hidden, but they didn't seem to know he was there. The door had remained open, meaning that more were probably coming, by which time I wanted me and Mark to be out of there. The person on the bed was now lain on it, which opened up my vision of the room from the crevice below. I saw Mark, looking as if he was ready to make a move. I really really hoped he knew what he was doing. Then again, he always had before. Then again, we'd never been in this position. I watched him and waited.

Another person came in the door, closing it behind them. I was sure that Mark had been found and flinched slightly. They didn't look at Mark, though. Instead, Mark moved himself just before the door swung closed. He, with an amazing agility, siphoned himself through the door. I sighed silently. Mark had left me alone. In a room of terrorists. Some handler, huh? My heart was beating like a samba drum. I was sure I was going to die. I had to wait five minutes before Mark once again entered. This time in a hotel uniform. I blinked and watched him. "Cleaning." He said.  
"Don't women normally do cleaning?" The man on the bed said, the other man leaning against a wall beside him.  
"Sometimes but not in this hotel." Mark said, trying put on his most convincing french accent. It was working, I have to say. It was very convincing.  
"Fine. Come on John, let's go and get a coffee or something." The man on the bed said, standing and leaving, the man apparently named John leaving right after him, barging past Mark. Mark rolled his eyes and entered the now empty room. He closed the door.  
"Get out from there, Josh." He said and I rolled from out of the bed, getting up.  
"Were you going to tell me this plan?" I asked him calmly.  
"Did it look I could?" He asked.  
"Fair enough." I conceded and left the room with him. We then set up the rest of the cameras and other various surveillance equipment.

Back in our own hotel room, I sat at the breakfast bar there, setting up my laptop. Mark put his next to mine and then left the room, probably to go to reception. I sighed and set up the signal for both of our laptops. Within minutes, camera views covering every inch of the hotel room were up on both screens. I moved my mouse over to one of them and clicked on it and the entire screen was now full of that view. Everything was working perfectly. I knew that this was probably only for now. More trouble was sure to follow. If we had almost been caught once, it was sure to happen again. Mark came back with a cup of to-go coffee for us both and sat down at his computer. I saw on the camera that was facing the door that they were entering. "Who's running facial recognition? Me or you?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the screen.  
"Go ahead." Mark replied. I nodded and paused the feed, where one of the man's face was in full view. I placed the markers on his features, running it through every database we had access to. We got no match for about ten minutes, and I was beginning to lose hope. As I was about to, a profile flashed up on the screen. We had a match. I looked over the profile.

* * *

FULL NAME: ADAM TERENCE DUNNINGTON  
OCCUPATION: UNEMPLOYED/UNKNOWN  
KNOWN AFFILIATIONS: NONE  
KNOWN CRIMES: SUSPECTED OF MURDER  
AGE: 37

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:  
EYE COLOUR: HAZEL  
HAIR COLOUR: CHESTNUT BROWN  
TATTOOS: NONE KNOWN  
SCARS: LEFT EYE, THIN  
HEIGHT (AT TIME OF LAST RECORD): 6 FOOT 3 INCHES  
WEIGHT (AT TIME OF LAST RECORD): 13 STONE 5 POUNDS

OTHER INFORMATION:  
Dunnington has been reported missing a total of five times, often in summer. There have been no explanations given for this, as he has never been available for questioning.

* * *

I blinked at the file and put it into a folder, entitled 'RED MOON'. Mark was looking over another profile, so I got back to the live feed. Nothing much happened for the next few minutes. The speech was just about trivial things, nothing condemning. That was until Dunnington finally spoke, having kept quiet up to now.  
"Is everything ready?" He asked, his voice unmistakably Russian.  
"Of course, sir..." Another man said, his voice sounding Arabic.  
"Good. The wheels are set in motion, then?" Dunnington asked to the man.  
"Yes, sir." The man replied, it being clear that he was an inferior to Dunnington.  
"Ona nachinayetsya." Dunnington said, his Russian accent sounding harsh and angry.  
"It begins? What does that mean?" I asked hurriedly.  
"I don't know." He said, brows furrowed. We looked back at the screen. Dunnington was now speaking to the rest of the men, who had just arrived.  
"The English agents in the next room... They have no idea of the plan we have formulated. They think we are preparing to attack their... Their precious Parliament. This is a ruse. Of course, if all goes to plan, yes. We will take London... But that is endgame." Another man looked at Dunnington, his voice Spanish.  
"But sir... They must be watching us now."  
"Of course they are... I know they are." I looked at Mark, my eyes full of fear. Mark was already reaching for his gun. "But by the end of the hour... Them and everyone else in this hotel... Will be dead." I blinked and the feed switched off, as the men were leaving their room. I stood up hurriedly.  
"What did he mean? How will we be dead?" I asked, now terrified.  
"I don't know, Josh. Ring the fire alarm. Give everyone a fighting chance." I did as he said, the shrill tones loud and ringing.  
"Good. Get any evidence we might have left. We don't have time to search their room. Make sure nobody could possibly know we were here." He ordered and I went to work. I was moving a sheet when I saw a red blinking light.  
"MARK!" I shouted, though he was near. He jumped over to me.  
"Wha- Oh my god." The timer read 00:10. We were looking at a bomb.


	3. Paris: Escape

I gasped and looked at the ticking explosive in front of me. I looked at Mark "Jump." He said calmly... Too calmly.  
"What?" I asked.  
"Jump out of the window." Mark's voice began to crumble and break. He sounded so nervous. I blinked.  
"We're three floors u-"  
"Just JUMP!" He shouted and I ran to the window. I looked down at where I thought the ground would be perilously far down. Instead, there was some scaffolding just beflow the window. I thrust my elbow through the window, glad it wasn't double-glazed and clambered out. I saw a building and, without thinking, jumped for the opposite building. Only in mid-air did I realise that it was too far to jump. I grasped the edge of the building and tried desperately to hold on. Behind me, Mark clambered out of the building and jumped. The only thing that stopped him from missing as well was the massive explosion that propelled him further, so he reached the building and rolled to recover. He spent one fleeting moment staring at the destruction before him, before helping me up. I caught my breath and looked at the building that now was on fire, with rubble falling. I sighed.

I turned to Mark "How many, do you reckon?" I asked him.  
"I don't know... Let's not endeavour to find out." He replied and looked for a fire escape. I stopped and looked at Mark, who was still looking at the burning remains of the building.  
"Mark... There's nothing we can do." I said solemnly. "We have job to do. Come on." I said. He nodded in response. "Look. Fire escape." I said and climbed down. I jumped down from the last ledge and walked to the end of the alley. Mark joined me.  
"Come on... We'll get a car." Mark said. I nodded and walked over to the other side of the street. "We may have to... Steal one." He said and looked for a suitable car. He walked over to one, a black saloon. I walked over too and leaned on the front. He was about to pick the lock on the car when another massive explosion rocked the street. I was thrown onto the bonnet with the force and I rolled backwards, taking cover behind the vehicle. Mark had done the same.  
"What the hell just happened?!" I shouted over the ringing in my ears.  
"I don't know!" He shouted back. He looked over the boot of the car, looking at the building that had just been torn apart: the very one we'd just been stood on. "All I know is we need to get out of here... And quick."

We ran. We ran through streets and streets, not standing out amongst the chaos. As we were running, a car pulled out in front of us. Mark dived over the car bonnet, rolling as he hit the ground. He got up and continue to run. I placed my hands on the bonnet and slid over the car, all without stopping. I stumbled a bit but recovered soon enough. I struggled to keep up with Mark, who was taller and had more powerful strides. Suddenly, Mark stopped. I did, but not in time to avoid a pothole. I tripped and went flying. I landed heavily and rolled. As I lay there, I measured the damage. My ankle was hurting. Badly. I supposed I'd sprained it. Mark ran over. "Josh? You ok?" He asked.  
"I can't walk. My ankle... I think I've sprained it." I moaned in response. Mark frowned at me.  
"Alright... Come on." He took my arm and helped me to my feet, before slinging it round his neck, so he could support me. "We're nowhere near the airfield... We need to find a taxi or something." He said and I nodded my agreement, unable to speak due to the immense burning pain in my ankle. I had to bite my lip so I didn't scream. Luckily, we didn't need a taxi. Someone saw us and took pity and pulled up in a silver Ford. The man spoke in French.  
"Quel est le problème?" The man asked. Mark sighed and mumbled to me "I don't know French."  
"Good job I do." I managed, grunting. "Je me suis foulé la cheville, s'il vous plaît aidez-nous." I said as clearly as I could, through the pain. The man nodded.  
"Oui, oui. entrent en jeu." The man replied and Mark put me into the back, getting into the front. "Où allez-vous?" The man asked and Mark pointed it out on the map. The man nodded and began driving, not saying a word. He turned up the radio, where a broadcast was being made about the explosions. It translated to: 'Two buildings have been blown up. Death toll has reached the hundreds. There are no known survivors from either buildings." I looked at Mark, who looked ashen.

We arrived at the airstrip in just over an hour. Mark got out and helped me out. My ankle still hurt like a living hell. We couldn't see the plane and Mark brought out his phone. He had a short conversation with George, the pilot. Mark nodded. "Fine." He said and put his phone away. The man who had driven us there was still there. "You can go, you know." Mark said.  
"No. I can't." The man got out. Mark and I both watched him, Mark's hand going for his gun, which was attached to a shoulder holster. "Red Moon will kill you." He said and brought out a gun. Mark froze, as did I. The man pointed the gun at me. "Move and I kill the kid." The man now spoke in a perfect English accent. I glanced at Mark. The man was also looking at Mark. I smiled. I tested my ankle and found it less painful than before. I released myself from Mark, trying to make it look like an accident. The man's attention did not shift from Mark. I kept quiet and eyed the man. He was now stood in front of the car, his back facing the front. We were directly in front of him. The man didn't seem to notice when I moved to my left. He obviously thought I was just some weak kid. An instant later, I launched myself at him. He tried to swing the gun around but I grabbed his wrist as I jumped on him, making him fall on the bonnet. I smashed his wrist off the bonnet. He let go of the gun and I brought my fist up and hit him on the face. He grunted and fell limp. I rolled off him and was walking back to Mark when I heard a noise behind me. I knew what to do. I ducked. Two shots rang over my head. Two shots originating from Mark. The man fell back on the bonnet, dead. I looked at his body, two bloody spots on his shirt. I grimaced and saw the plane beginning to land. "Three years... I've never seen drama like this." I said, sighing.  
"Ten years. I have." Mark said and the plane landed.


	4. Home: Introductions

Ah... Home. What a contrast to the chaos of Paris. In this place, nothing happens. My mother was called Heather. Heather Conlon. I had a brother called Daniel, too. We didn't get along. My home life was quiet but I didn't mind that. My school life, however, was a different matter. My school life was full of people. I lived in a rather rural area, though that didn't mean we were all yokels. My school was in the North of England and I had a few friends there. Two of them were named Gabriel Michaels and Drake Wolstenholme were my best friends. I saw them every day at school. The day after I got back, I found them two talking to each other. I got back midday and they were in the dining hall. It was just them two on a table. They looked at me. More precisely, they looked at my cheek. I should have mentioned, when the second explosion had gone off, a piece of rock had sliced my cheek open. I now had a long cut there. "What the hell happened to you?" Drake asked and I sighed.  
"I fell over." I offered. Neither of them knew my true occupation. They would, though. In time. They eyed me suspiciously but accepted it as the best they'd get. They went back to talking about whatever it was they were talking about. I looked about and caught a teacher looking at me, who I didn't recognise. "Who's that?" I asked.  
"Mr. Roberts... Came the day after you left..." Gabriel explained quietly. I nodded, feeling a suspicious feeling rise in my stomach. The two other boys started their conversation again. I didn't really listen, looking around the hall. My phone buzzed, vibrating in my pocket. I took it out and looked at the text. 'Debrief at noon tomorrow, all sorted with school. Blunt there. M.' I groaned and looked at the other two. "I'm off tomorrow as well." I explained to them. They eyed me suspiciously.  
"Why?" They asked.  
"Medical debrief... Want to see if everything's still working properly." I lied easily, having done it many times before. They nodded and accepted it as the truth.

Now would be a good time to introduce a few more people more clearly. Gabriel Michaels was who I would name as my best friend. He was a tall, slim boy with delicate features and eyes of deep green. Drake Wolstenholme was a more stocky boy, with messy black hair and dull, blue eyes. There was also Nathan Hodgson, who was more Gabriel's friend than mine. He was a small, humourous boy with messy black hair and brown eyes. There was Jake Arthurs, a tall boy who had cleanly groomed black hair and grey eyes. Jake was less humourous than Nathan, though he still liked a laugh. There was Isaac Michaels, Gabriel's twin brother. Isaac was tall, with dark blonde hair and eyes like emeralds. Isaac was, again, humourous. He had an odd sense of humour, though. It usually stemmed from making light of hard situations. There was two girls I knew, as well. Eleanor Goffee and Emma Glenister, both of whom were my friends. In fact, I was often made fun of because I spent so much time with them. In truth, they were just my friends, no matter what people said. There was also Jos Harrison, Isaac's friend. We didn't speak much but he was alright. There were four more boys: Matthew Paulson, Billy Hazel, Harry Johnson and Daniel Friar. They were good friends of mine. Matthew was my oldest friend, I'd known him for a fair few years.

That's the introductions done. None of those people knew about the true nature of my life, of course. The school did but they were under strict orders not to tell anyone. Sat in that dinner hall, I was glad to be home. I knew it wouldn't be for long, but I was glad nonetheless. I did feel guilty we hadn't stopped Red Moon but I was under strict orders from both Mark and myself not to let my professional life rule my personal one. Therefore, I pushed the worry of an impending terrorist attack to the back of my mind. I decided to go and find Eleanor and Emma, as they were always fun to talk to. I found them a few minutes later, out on the grassy part of the school grounds. They were both sat on the hill, as it was a gloriously sunny day. They both looked at me in mild surprise. "What happened to you?" Emma asked. I shrugged casually.  
"Eh. Fell over." I repeated. Emma shrugged and turned away, while Eleanor eyed me suspiciously. I flashed her a smile to try and ward her off. She rolled her eyes.  
"How was your hospital stay?" She asked and I shrugged.  
"It was a hospital stay, what do you expect?" I replied, smirking. She chuckled slightly, but there was still a glint of suspicion in her eyes. Not many people trusted me, owing to the fact I was gone fairly regularly and, when I was, the teachers didn't mention me at all, or so Drake told me.

I decided to walk around for a while. I walked inside the library and heard a conversation coming from the small room seperated from it. "You know as well as I do, Lance. One day, that Conlon kid isn't gonna come back." I blinked and pretended to look at a book on the wall. The voice was of one of my teachers, Mr. Edwards.  
"I know, John. Everybody knows... One day, he's gonna put us all in danger." A voice I didn't recognise (Mr. Roberts, I expected.) replied.  
"But that day's a while away." Mr. Edwards added in a brighter tone.  
"I hope so... 'Cos if it comes any time soon... He'll find out the truth." Mr. Roberts replied and Mr. Edwards didn't audibly reply. I stood there, blinking and breathing heavily. _The truth_? My thoughts enquired, _What truth?_


	5. London: Meeting

The rest of that day passed quicker than I would have liked. The next day I woke up and put on the suit I had been given upon my induction to MI6 which, rather miraculously, still fit me. I was sitting in my living room, anxiety taking over. All those people that had likely died in those blasts... They were all dead because of _us. _Had me and Mark not been there, the bomb most likely would not have been set. We were guilty of each and everyone of their deaths. The guilt had consumed me throughout last night. I had cried and had a nightmare about the blast. I woke up screaming, in a cold sweat. My mum hadn't been able to comfort me, I still wept. Now, I was sat with my hands on my lap and clenched in fists that were so tight, they were blank. My eyes were focused on one position, as I feared tears would spring back. I sat like that for quite a while, until there was a knock on the door. So deep was I set in my reverie, that I barely heard it. My mum went to answer it. I heard their voices, faint. "Hey, Heather." Mark said.  
"Hello, Mark..." My mother replied, her voice solemn.  
"You heard about Paris?" Mark asked, voices getting louder.  
"Yeah... Everyone did." My mum replied and said no more. Mark did the same, as he entered the room. I stood and he nodded, already beginning to leave. I followed, hugging my mum goodbye. If I'd have known how long it would be until I saw her again, I'd have done more. If I'd have known how long it would be until I saw my friends again... I don't know. I'd have done something.

The journey to London would be long. I was to get there, have the meeting and then stay in London overnight. As we were, Mark and I were two hours into the journey. Not a word had been said between us. We sat in silence, solemn, guilt-ridden silence. Finally I spoke. "We're gonna be fired, aren't we?" I asked, voice shaking.  
"Possibly... Or worse." Mark replied cryptically.  
"What do you mea-" I began, before Mark interrupted.  
"I mean that there's worse things Alan Blunt will do." He sounded angry.  
"L-Like what?" I asked, afraid of the answer. Mark looked me dead in the eyes.  
"Like sending somewhere we won't come back from." He said in all seriousness. I sat in silence for another quarter of an hour, considering this. Mark looked at his watch.  
"It's nearing twelve... You wanna stop off somewhere? Get lunch?" I could tell he was trying to be light.  
"No... We might as well get there as fast as we can." I said, keeping my mind on business. There was no point in dilly-dallying. We needed to get there as soon as possible. Mark nodded and kept driving. He had anticipated that answer, it seems.

We neared London. The car ride had been... Awkward, to say the least. We had barely spoken. Now, we were in the outskirts of London and nearing the traffic jams. We got stuck in them for an hour before we neared the Royal and General Bank, which acted as a front for MI6. We got out of the car and neared the building on foot. "Well... This should be good." I mumbled sarcastically. Mark gave an involuntary laugh and I smiled at him. His expression sobered and we entered the building. Waiting for us inside was Tulip Jones, Alan Blunt's deputy. Mrs. Jones was a nice woman, kind and warm-hearted. Today, however, she looked sombre and sorrowful.  
"300." She said and I blinked, about to ask what she meant. "300 people died in those blasts." She said and looked at me. "He knows it's not your fault..." She tried to assure me and Mark but he shrugged.  
"But he doesn't care... He sending us on an Obituary?" He asked and I looked at him, wondering what he meant.  
"Very, very possibly." She replied and began leading us to Blunt's office. I looked at Mark.  
"What's an Obituary?" I asked him, brows furrowed.  
"A suicide mission..." He replied quietly. I sighed and closed my eyes, an uneasy feeling setting in my stomach. We entered Blunt's office and looked at the dull interior. Blunt almost seemed to blend in with the dull surroundings, his grey suit and glasses matching the colours of the wall. I glanced at Mark, who looked pale and was beginning to break into a cold sweat.

"Paris. 300 people died in those blasts, Reed." Blunt began and Mark nodded, keeping his head low. "300. That is unnaceptable. 300 innocent people." He now turned his gaze to me. "And you, Conlon. You may only be a child, but you are a _replacable child." I felt my anger rise in my chest until I couldn't hold it in.  
_"WIth all due respect, _sir,_ you sent us in there. You sent us to Paris. You are as much to blame as we are!" I had to restrain myself from shouting, instead speaking sharply. Blunt eyed me, narrowing his eyes.  
"Me? I didn't kill those people.-"  
"Neither did we!" Mark shouted, stunning both me and Blunt. "We didn't kill them, so stop treating us as if we did. Those people died but it wasn't our fault. Those people would have died no matter who you sent... It was no different that it was Josh and me than if it was Davies or Rider. Sure it was us there... It could easily have been someone else." Mark finished his retort at Blunt and I couldn't help but smile. Mark looked sideways at me and even flashed a smile himself. Blunt just looked at us. Looking at him, I'd dare say he was even proud at his agent's retort.  
"Agent Conlon, wait outside. I must have a word with Agent Reed." Blunt said, not taking his eyes off Mark. I nodded and left the building.

Outside, I leant on the wall of the Royal and General bank. I looked around at various people walking on the street and smiled at the chaotic street before me. This was the sort of chaos I was used to, not the kind that ended in people dying. The chaos I liked was people rushing about, looking so alive, instead of dying in blasts. Despite the fact they were both chaotic, this street formed a nice contrast with that street in Paris. A contrast I was comfortable with. This street was alive with movement, while the Parisian street was strewn with death and destruction. I sighed at the memory and hoped never to see Red Moon again, now that I knew what they were capable of. I looked back at the door, expecting Mark to come out at any second. I felt a presence beside me. I didn't turn my head. I wish I had. I could have ran. I didn't look, though. A familiar Russian accent spoke to me. "You should have died in Paris, Conlon." I felt my heart stop. A second later, blackness consumed me as I was hit with the butt of a pistol, from the other side of me.


	6. Captured: Alone

I woke up, my eyes bleary and my heat pounding. I was sat in the cargo bay of a plane, that I could tell. It was metallic, grey and dark. Before me sat a lone, shadowed figure. Without seeing, I knew who it was. Adam Dunnington. I sighed and closed my eyes. I could almost hear him smile. "My men secured you correctly, it seems." He said, his thick russian accent bouncing off my ears.  
"Would you care to tell me why?" I asked and immediately doubted it was my own voice. It was quiet and cracked.  
"I could... But that would ruin the fun, wouldn't it?" He said and stepped into the light. I saw his face, more scarred than when I had seen it previously. He saw me observing his face. "It took us a lot of trouble to capture you..." He said and smiled softly, the smile forming a horrid contrast to his scarred, battle-worn face.  
"W-Why me?" I asked, slightly fearing the answer.  
"We needed a spy. You were available and ripe for the taking, so to speak. They will care more about a child than an adult..." He said and I couldn't help but laugh.  
"You've got me for ransom? Good luck! My boss doesn't care about me... In fact, you're helping him here." I said and Adam nodded, his smile not even faltering.  
"I know." He said calmly.  
"Then why are you doing this?" I asked, confused.  
"Because with a child... There is more to teach. More to... Induct." He said and I knew right then  
"I'll never join you." I said and he smiled. He leant closer to my face.  
"Not yet." He said and I was about to ask what he meant but I felt a sharp pain in my neck and fell unconscious yet again.

I woke up and groaned, my neck feeling extremely painful. I had obviously been injected with some sort of sedative. I looked around. I was in a dimly lit room with four walls. It was very small and there were no windows. There was a door on the wall in front of me but I already knew that would be securely locked. I looked around and the next thing I noticed was that were was no bed. I already knew what this was. Psychological torture. No bed, no chair, just the floor. I already knew I'd get one meal a day and a drink of water. I'd been told about these sort of rooms. I had no idea where I was. All I knew was that it was hot. Very hot. My blazer had been taken, as had my tie, so I was just in a shirt, which was now sticking to me. I groaned and sat against the wall, my back aching. I sighed and wondered how long I could go on for.

I don't know how much time passed. There was no natural light so I could judge. It could have been weeks... Months. I just didn't know. I couldn't remember how much time it had been since I last spoke. As expected, I got one meal per day and one drink per day. I my bones ached horribly but I'd gotten used to the floor as my bed. Every night, I was haunted by nightmares. Images of my friends crying that I was gone, thinking I was dead. Mark getting fired for losing me... My family. I didn't want to think about my family. It just brought guilt and immense sadness. I simply sighed and looked at the same blank wall I had looked at for a good while now. Nothing changed. I was just there... Left alone. I hated it. The psychological torture was working. The only thing that kept me going was thoughts of Eleanor, Drake... Gabriel. My friends, who I would likely never see again. The very thought made me sob and, before I knew it, I was sobbing on the floor. I cried for a long time, or so I think. I don't know. My tears wet my already sweated shirt. I cried for ages, thoughts of my friends and family constantly springing to mind.

A long while later, my tears ceased. My breakdown had provided me with one objective: Escape. I had to. I had no plan but I had determination. I knew I had to escape. I was not going to die in that godforsaken place. My mind began to formulate a plan. A plan I probably wouldn't survive. But I had to try. I had to attempt to survive, if not for my sake, for theirs. I groaned and wondered how I was even going to attempt it. It wasn't going to work, my thoughts told me over and over again. I was going to die here. I thought that then. I almost knew that then. But I had to try. It might take me a few months, but I would try.

A long , long while later, I had my plan. The full plan of how I was going to escape. It was almost impossible, but the 'almost' was what I was hanging onto. The plan was formulated, I was ready and it was time. Time to escape. Time to get out. Time to be free. Time to run.

* * *

**_###Author Note: I know this shorter than the others but the next one should be longer! So please don't stop reading!_**


	7. Capture: Escape

I sat in my prison, where I had been sat for a very long while. I looked at the door, willing it to open. I smiled slightly, a smile that hurt. I heard the guard who gave me my food approaching. I scrambled towards the door. "Hey..." I said, speaking for the first time in a very very long time. I heard the guard pause. I closed my eyes.  
"I'm not allowed to talk to you." A youthful voice replied and I smiled to myself. This was good news.  
"Come on... Please. Just... I need some water." I said, making my voice crack.  
"You have water." He replied.  
"I n-need more." I begged. There was a long pause.  
"Fine. Give me your glass."  
"I can't... Too weak." I said and collapsed. I heard him unlock the door rushingly. I scrambled over to the empty glass and picked it up, standing next to the door, just so I couldn't be seen. The door opened and I smiled slightly. The youthful guard, who looked barely older than me, stepped in.  
"Wha-" He never finished his sentence before I shattered the glass over his head. The guard dropped like a stone and I stepped over him. I looked behind me and then back at the guard. He was awake, but barely.  
"Thank you." I said to him. He looked confused. "Unfortunately, I have to knock you out... When you wake up, get as far away from here as you can." He blinked and I stepped on his face, rendering him unconscious. I knelt down next to the body and took the pistol from the holster. It felt heavy and cold in my hands, but holding it granted me a slight rush, a feeling that I was invincible. I hated it. That rush made me feel capable of killing... I hated that. I hated the thought I could kill. Soon, it would be more than a thought.

I left the room, my almost starved body making me quieter. I crept through hallways, seeing various guards and staff, talking. It seemed I wasn't the only prisoner. I saw other cells as I wandered the hallways. I was catching my breath, my stamina greatly reduced due to my starved adolescent body, when I heard footsteps approaching. I dived through a door and it turned out to be a restroom. I looked at the strange figure that was staring at me through the glass. I was stunned when I realised that the figure was me. My hair had grown long, greasy and strandy, while my face was dirtied and I had facial hair. I looked like I was ten years older than I was. I only broke my attention when I heard the door of the restroom open. I silently went to one of the cubicles and locked the door. I put my back against the door and held my breath. A mistake here would cost me my life. The man did his business and washed his hands, from what I heard. He then left. So far so good, but I knew this stealth wouldn't last.

I left the restroom, looking out into the abadoned corridor. I breathed a sigh of relief. That was a mistake. Before I could even turn, I was knocked off my feet. I flew through the air and landed hard on the ground. The gun I had been holding flew out of my hand and skittered along the ground. I turned and saw a behemoth of a man looming over me. "Oh bugger." I muttered. I rolled out of the way of a stamp that would have killed me. I groaned and was picked up. Then, he threw me again, this time I landed right next to the gun. I groaned in pain and cringed. I heard the footsteps approaching and instincts kicked in. Before I could stop myself, I grabbed the gun, rolled onto my back and fired three times. Three shots, all of which connected. One in the stomach, two in the chest. The behemoth before me gurgled slightly and began to fall, like a great tree that had just fallen victim to a lumberjack. I rolled, just before the massive frame fell with a massive impact. I got up and groaned. So much for stealthy. I shook the dust from me and looked at the body on the floor. The realisation of what I'd just done staggered me. I'd actually killed a man. I felt a deep sense of guilt and sighed. I shook the feeling. I couldn't worry about that for now. I ran towards a room marked 'COMMAND CENTER'.

It was empty. That was the first bad sign. There was a laptop in the corner of the room, which I ran over to. It was already logged on; the second bad sign. I was about to go onto the email service, when I noticed the sheer amount of intel, maps and reports on the walls. I blinked and logged onto my emails. I began typing an email to Mark.

* * *

Mark,

I'm alive. No idea where I am. Trace this email. Gold mine in intelligence here. Hurry.

Josh

* * *

I barely had time to click send when I felt a gun resting against my temple. A familiar Russian purr rang in my ears "We meet again." Dunnington whispered. I sighed and turned, him backing away slightly, looking straight into my eyes.  
"Whether you kill me or not, the British army will be coming in a matter of hours." I said, sounding more brave than I felt.  
"Hours? That leaves me plenty of time." He said and smiled maliciously. I gulped slightly and backed away as he approached me. I reached for my gun and he reached for his own. Within a second, we were aiming straight at each other. One wrong move and we'd both die. Dunnington looked at me and smiled "Know how to use that?" He asked and I smirked despite myself.  
"Well, I killed one of your men in the hallway." I said and his gaze narrowed.  
"I wondered where Rodriguez went." He said. No regret marked his scarred face, in fact no emotion registered at all. "You killed him?" He asked.  
"Yeah, I did." I said, trying to keep my voice steady.  
"Ever killed anyone before him?" Dunnington asked. I could sense danger in these questions but ignored it.  
"No..." I said, keeping my eyes and gun trained on him.  
"Are you going to kill me?" He asked, a smirk playing on his face.  
"It's very tempting." I said, truthfully.  
"But you won't?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.  
"I'm not sure yet." I lied. I didn't want him feeling safe.  
"Put the gun down, Conlon." He said and I looked at him, remembering a question.  
"How did you know my name?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.  
"I know everything about you. Put the gun down. I won't kill you or harm you, you have my word." He said and lowered his own weapon. Against my better judgement, I did the same. I heard a footstep behind me and turned, seeing an assailant with a gun. I levelled my gun and let off a shot, though it missed. I lashed out with my foot and hit the attacker with my heel and he crumpled. I ran out of the door, Dunnington and other attackers pursuing.

I ran through any hallway I could find, the amount of pursuers increasing every minute. I was running through a dank hallway when I saw a window at the end of the hallway, the full height of the wall. I saw the desert outside and groaned. I made a quick calculation of the height and sprinted full force towards the window. About a foot before the window, I jumped and shielded my face with my arms. The glass shattered around me as I smashed through. I landed on the scorching sand and rolled, burning my hand and my bare feet. I staggered with the sheer force of the heat but didn't have long to recover as shots rang out from above me. I was sure I was going to die... Until I heard engines. I looked around and saw British army jeeps. I blinked and ducked as a small-scale battle began. I got over to one of the British jeeps and grabbed one of the soldiers. He turned to me. "Josh Conlon?" He shouted over the noise of engines, gunfire and battle shouts. I nodded.  
"Yeah, that's me!" I shouted back.  
"Go to jeep 3! Sgt. Williams will talk to you there!" He instructed me and I nodded, running over to a jeep with a white '3' on it. I saw a man sat against the side of the jeep facing away from battle.  
"Sergeant Williams?" I shouted.  
"You Conlon?" He shouted back, glancing at the chaos through the window.  
"Yeah, I am!" I replied.  
"There's a lot of people that are gonna be happy to see you!" He shouted and I could see a slight smile on him.  
"Two questions: How long have I been gone and where the hell am I?"  
"You've been gone five months and you're in Afghanistan, son." He shouted and I blinked. "Just stay here until the helicopter comes! Your handler's on there!" He shouted and I nodded, just as a bullet shattered the window above my head. A piece of glass fell and cut my shoulder through my shirt. I gasped and looked at my quickly reddening shirt shoulder. Sgt. Williams saw this and pointed to a man. "Over there! There's a medic over there! Name of Watson! He'll patch you up!" He shouted and I nodded, running over. Unfortunately for me, one of the Red Moon assailants got lucky. I felt a horrible, piercing pain close to my hip and fell onto the sand, my blood seeping out. One of the soldiers grabbed me and dragged me towards the medic who had been previously pointed out to me. I groaned and passed out.

I don't know when I woke up. All I know was that I was being dragged towards a helicopter. There was someone screaming orders. All I caught was 'GET OUT! RETREAT!'. The rest was incomprehensible. I looked at the passenger section of the helicopter, where I saw a face I thought I'd never see again. "Mark." I said, my voice genuinely weak.  
"My God..." He said and I smiled slightly.  
"I've seen worse..." I said brightly, though the pain was making my voice cracked. Mark looked at the pilot.  
"Let's get out of here." He said. The pilot nodded and took off. The jeeps evacuated the site quickly. Too quickly. I looked at Mark.  
"What's going o-" I began, before the helicopter was shook by a massive blast. I covered my eyes from the flash, as the building I had been kept in exploded. "What the hell?" I whispered. We began the journey home and I breathed hard. I looked at Mark. "I killed someone." He looked at me.  
"It hurts, doesn't it?" He asked and I nodded.  
"You're halfway to double-0 status." He said, smirking.

* * *

**###Author's Note: Alright, I admit, I put a blatant Sherlock reference in. I didn't plan it but I saw a chance and I took it. So sue me (Don't actually sue me, I can't afford that.)###**


	8. Home: Return

I was in the hospital. It was the nearest hospital to where I live and I was going to school in a matter of minutes. Mark was opposite me. I sighed. "Mark, I quit." I said and he nodded.  
"I know... I told Alan." He said and smiled. "Well, this is goodbye, then." He said and held out his hand. Despite my shoulder being hurt, I disregarded the hand and hugged him. After a split-second, he hugged me back. He nodded at me and looked towards the door.  
"You want a lift to the school?" He asked. "So you don't have to take the bus?"  
"Yeah, thanks." I said and stood, wincing in pain, due to my gunshot wound. It had only been another month but I wanted to go back. We walked towards Mark's car, the business atmosphere that was usually there gone. We were just friends. We drove to Teringham.

Back at school, I wandered into the office, to sign in. The receptionist went pale as a sheet when she saw me. I smiled slightly and signed in. I walked into a corridor and headed towards a classroom but ended up leant against a wall, wincing. I held my hip, seething. I looked up just as a few familiar faces rounded the corner. Gabriel, Drake, Harry and Jake all stopped in their tracks. I smiled at them. "Miss me?" I asked and, before I could even register what was happen, I was being hugged by Gabriel. "Watch my hip." I said quietly, wincing.  
"Sorry." He said, looking at me as if I weren't real. He went quiet and I looked at Harry, Jake and Drake, all of whom were simply stood there, seemingly unable to believe I was real.  
"I am real, you know." I said. Drake walked up to me and I watched him, eyebrows raised. He looked at me, seeing my limp and then my slightly lowered shoulder.  
"Where have you been for six months?" He asked me and I began to say 'Hospital' but was cut off by his slightly angered voice. "Oh come on! You were not in hospital for half a bloody year. Where the hell were you?!" He asked, almost shouting. I backed away and sighed, grunting.  
"I can't tell you." I said quietly.  
"Why not?" Gabriel asked and I looked at him.  
"Because if I do, I'm liable to be put in prison for the rest of my life." I told him and Jake, who had always been smart, looked at me and said, very quietly, so only our little group could hear: "You're a spy." All of them looked at me.  
"Was. I was a spy. I quit this morning." I said, sighing.  
"So where've you been?" asked Harry, who watched me sternly.  
"Afghanistan." I said.  
"In the conflict?" Drake asked. I chuckled slightly.  
"No... I was kidnapped. Kept in an empty cell for five months..." I explained, my gaze low.  
"But you escaped?" Jake asked me and I looked at him.  
"I sure as hell wasn't rescued... Not for the most part, anyway." I said. "I didn't escape unharmed, either."  
"What happened to you?" asked Drake and pulled them into a little nook. I unbuttoned my shirt and the group watched me, blinking. I removed my shirt from my wounded shoulder, revealing the long white scar that had formed there.  
"Bullet shattered a window. Glass fell and cut my shoulder... And..." I said and grasped my trouser waist.  
"Woah, Josh... Let's not get too serious here." Drake said, trying not to laugh. I rolled my eyes and pulled it down, just so it was below my injured side. I watched their reactions. Drake: Curiousity, surprise and concern. Harry: Curiousity, mixed with disgust. Jake: Disgust mixed with concern. Gabriel... Well, Gabriel went white as a sheet. He looked up at me.  
"Wh-What happened?" He asked and I smiled softly at him. I relayed the entire tale of my capture to them.

After I had finished, I was looking at four faces of awe and almost sadness. "You killed a man?" Drake asked quietly. I nodded.  
"Yeah, I did... " I said and sighed. I had avoided thinking of two things. The killing I had committed and the explosion after I had escaped. Jake looked at me suddenly.  
"How long have you been a spy?" He asked and I sighed.  
"Three years, give or take." I said quietly. Drake and Gabriel rounded on me.  
"You lied to us for three years?" Drake asked and I shut my eyes for a second.  
"I had to." I said.  
"Why?" Gabriel asked, eyes looking just as angry as Drake.  
"Ever heard of the Official Secrets Act?" I asked sarcastically. "I'd have been put in prison for the rest of my life if I told you."  
"You just have." Drake said and I sighed.  
"I'm out of the game now, Drake." I tried.  
"How does that change anything?" He asked, annoyance clear in his eyes. I felt my patience diminish.  
"Because I almost lost all of you! I almost died in the middle of a desert! I would never have seen you again. You'd never have known what had happened to me. I'd just have disappeared. Gone, forever. From you, from everyone. And you know that I'd hate that... You guys are my family." I said and Drake looked taken aback.  
"So..."  
"So, I think it's time to start trusting you all with this." I said and they nodded, I walked away. Now two other people I had to tell.

Eleanor Goffee and Emma Glenister. I really hoped they wouldn't mind that I'd lied to them for three years, but I doubted it. Eleanor and Emma had the knack, though through different methods, to make you feel bad when you've done the smallest sin or committed the smallest error. I slightly feared how they'd react when I told them that I had formerly been an spy in the British Secret Service for three years, been all over the Earth and, worse of all, lied to them for three years.I found them and leaned on a wall. On the way to find them, you wouldn't believe how many people went extremely pale seeing me. Very few of them had spoken to me. I would have a lot of explaining to do next lesson. Anyway, neither of them saw me for a while. I smiled softly as they talked animatedly. Soon enough, Eleanor looked up and then down again. She hadn't registered me. I fought the urge to grin. She looked back up, finally registering me. Emma was still talking to her but stopped. I heard her say "Eleanor, what're you looking a-" She stopped when she saw me. Neither of them moved for a few seconds. Then, they came practically running over to me. They both hugged me tightly. I ignored the pain in my hip as I hugged them back. "Six months!" Emma said to me. I nodded.

"I know." I said quietly.  
"Where have you been?" Eleanor asked and I sighed. I gestured to the table.  
"Let's sit." I said and sat. They sat opposite me.  
"Well?" Emma asked. I sighed and began my tale.

After I'd finished, they looked at me. They had the same look as everyone had. Horror and shock, mixed with a little bit of mistrust. "So you lied to everyone?" Eleanor asked. I nodded.  
"I had to." I replied and she nodded.  
"Right." She replied and both of them were silent. I had to admit, I was confused. Relieved, but confused. There was no indignation. No anger. It seemed weird. Then, I realised. They didn't trust me. Not at all. It would take me a while to win back their trust but... I hoped to acheive it.

* * *

_**###Author's Note: I understand this wasn't my best chapter. For that, I apologise. The next one will be better, You have my solemn word. Don't give up yet!  
Yours Sincerely,  
Josh.  
(Yes, my actual name is Josh. I am not a spy. After thinking about it, which spurred me to write this, I don't want to be.)###**_


	9. Home: Plans

Year 9 finished swiftly after my return. My summer holidays were uneventful and uninteresting. All the time throughout the time after my return, it was slightly awkward with my friends, who were still having a hard time both believing and trusting me. This hurt but it was understandable. I mean, I had just told them I was part of the British Secret Service, had been kidnapped and almost blown up. It was understandable they were wary of me. They still talked to me and were friendly, but they were wary. I could see the suspicion in their eyes.

Anyway, as I was saying. Summer was unventful. No, the real trouble began when I went back to school. The first day of Year 10 was crazy. Everything was chaos. Friends reuniting, people laughing, everything was a jumble. There was still an unreal heat that forced everyone into a sweat. I was in the library when I heard someone - or more specifically four people - approach. Nathan, Gabriel, Drake and Jake. I looked at them evenly, betraying no emotion on my face or, at least I hoped, through my eyes. "Hello." I said then broke into a grin. "How've your holidays been?" I asked them all. They all launched into descriptions of their holidays. Gabriel had been to Scarborough, Nathan had just been at home, Drake had got a job and got a bit of money and Jake had been to Italy. When they asked me, I shrugged and said: "Nothing exciting..." Then added under my breath "Thankfully." They didn't hear me. We all talked about our holidays for about five minutes, before I caught Mr. Robert's eye. I excused myself and walked over to him.

"Ah, Conlon. Nice holiday, I hope?"  
"Very, thank you sir." I said, keeping my emotions even. He nodded.  
"Good... Personally, mine was full of work." He replied and smiled cooly at me.  
"Ah, yes? Teaching take up that much time?" I asked, levelling my suspicion, just so it was slightly obvious.  
"Oh no, not at all. I do some... Secondary work. For a very important employer." He said and I was going to ask but he leant over to me and whispered "You should have stayed with MI6... You were safe there." He then walked away. I stood there in shock, watching him walk away. Drake walked over to me.  
"What's the matter?" He asked, concerned.  
"He knows." I said quietly.  
"Who?" Drake asked, confused.  
"Mr. Roberts... He knows I'm a spy." I said and my mind flashed back to the conversation I had heard the previous year. So did Mr. Edwards. I no longer knew what to think. My mind flashed back to the truth they had been discussing. What truth? There was something I needed to find out and that meant one thing: I had to investigate.

I questioned whether to include anyone in my investigations. It took me a while to think about, but I finally came up with four people who may agree to help. Jake, Harry, Drake and , the next day, I set about asking them. Drake agreed straight away, no persuasion necessary. I was happy enough with that. Harry took a little more persuasion but eventually agreed. Gabriel just shrugged and said "Fine." but Jake... Well. Jake.

I walked over to the tall, dark-haired boy. He was sat by himself. He looked up at me when I approached. "Yes?" He asked me, rather directly. Me and Jake been the best of friends, but we had always been civil to each other. After a few seconds, I guessed the fact I'd lied to him had hit him pretty hard. Jake had been my first friend in Teringham. I'd first met him when we came for a week to induct ourselves. We became friends. Then, we actually joined the school and we drifted a bit, I guess. It was my birthday, November 11th, when I was approached by Mark Reed, a man in a black suit and blacker shoes. He seemed very cool to me. He explained I had had an interest taken in me by a certain organisation. We were put in a private room and he told me about MI6. I knew about MI6, everyone did. We all thought it would be extremely cool to be a spy and there I was, getting the opportunity. As any kid of eleven would, I said yes. I was told to sign here and there and I was taken home, so my parents would sign the same thing. By the end of that day, I was in London. I met with Blunt, I became a spy. My first mission took place the month after. I sighed and sat down. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you." I said.  
"Don't be. You couldn't have. You weren't allowed." I could tell from his voice he was himself trying to believe his words. His eyes only confirmed my suspicions. There was a sadness in them, a disappointment. I guessed it wasn't me he was disappointed in. I was going to ask but he looked at me. "Yes, I'll help you."

The next week was spent on a mixture of lessons, sociality and planning. I was planning something. Something quite daring. What I was planning was an aggressive intelligence reconnaissance mission. Basically, a robbery. My suspicions of Lance Roberts had grown since the previous week. I had explained my plan to the group and they all agreed on it. We were going to be unarmed. This was going to be stealthy. Luckily, Gabriel knew how to pick locks, so I could get rid of the fear of having to smash a window and risk compromising the mission. We were ready. We were prepared and we were doing it tonight.


	10. Roberts' Household: Robbery

It was night. Drake, Gabriel, Jake, Harry and me were crouched in the bushes beside a large estate. It had gates and walls. We had prepared for this the previous night, however. The previous night had been spent in the garage of Jake's house, drawing up the plans on a board. Fortunately, Drake lived near Roberts' house, so he knew the security. We were all dressed in black and we had balaclavas on. Currently, they were pulled up, so we could easily identify one another. "Everyone clear on the plan?" I asked. They all nodded.  
"You ever done this before?" Harry asked. I looked at him.  
"Yeah. Once... Moscow." I said and smiled slightly. "About two or three years ago." Harry nodded.  
"Was it easy?" Gabriel asked and I looked at him, slightly sympathetically.  
"No. And this won't be either. Roberts knows something about me... He knows that I was a spy. I want to know how and what threat he poses." I explained.  
"You think he poses a threat?" Jake asked and I shrugged.  
"I don't know but I'm not taking any risks." I said and Drake looked at me.  
"We are going to survive this, aren't we?" He asked and I could tell they all wanted to ask that. I paused a while before answering.  
"As long as we don't get smart or draw attention to ourselves, we should." I said, diplomatically.  
"That just means you hope so, doesn't it?" Drake asked. I smiled and nodded and we had a brief spout of laughter, albeit quiet.

A while later, I looked as the final light went off in the house. "This is it, boys." I said and they all got up quietly. I pulled my mask down and they did the same. "From now on, no names. Initials only... Or better, no talking." I said and crept silently towards the wall. I reached it, as did Gabriel, Harry and Jake. Drake almost fell but was caught by Harry. I couldn't tell what look he gave him, but I guessed it wasn't a nice one. I looked up at the wall I was at. "Who's first?" I whispered, as if a breeze had blown. "D, come on." I said and Drake approached. Me and Harry put our hands together and lifted him over the wall. I have to say, I was surprised at how nimbly he landed and rolled, silent as the night. He lay prone on the ground, as the plan had specified. Gabriel and Jake got over in a similar fashion. There was only me and Harry left. I looked at him "You first." I whispered and he nodded. I hoisted him over and he stayed on the wall, helping me over. Unfortunately, Harry lost his balance and, for one exhilirating second, we both flew, before landing on the thankfully soft grass. I looked at Harry, no fury in my eyes, just slight annoyance. He just shrugged. We both lay prone on the ground until I signalled to move on. We all began crawling towards the house. It was agonisingly slow but we weren't detected. Finally, we reached the gravel. This would be difficult. Again, however, the plan had covered this. I looked at the shortest possible route to the door. I pointed my thumb to my left, indicating to roll that way. Turns out I had inducted them well. They did as told and I signalled for them to get up. I pointed towards the pavement towards the door, which was only a jump away. I jumped first and landed softly, regaining my balance immediately. Jake jumped over to me with similar results. Drake and Gabriel landed and stumbled but me and Jake caught them and Harry was a hair's length away from landing on the gravel. Me, Jake and Drake grabbed him and yanked him on the pavement with us. "G?" I asked quietly and he raised his hand. "Go on... Quietly, mind." I said and Gabriel knelt in front of the lock, setting to work picking it, while the rest of us watched the surroundings. "You know, if this was an actual operation, we'd be called a 'Skeleton Crew'." I whispered to them, for no real reason, other than I found it interesting.  
"Why's that?" asked Harry.  
"Because we make it look like we were never here."

A few minutes later, Gabriel had worked his magic on the lock and the door creak painfully open. I cringed but still stepped in. I looked around what appeared to be a rather large, albeit unlit, living room. I checked my watch, 11:50 PM. We were keeping to schedule. I turned my small torch on, as did the rest. I looked at them all "Look for anything official looking. Files, pictures, anything." I said and they nodded, walking off to look. I did the same, scanning a coffee table. From the numerous pizza boxes and a half-empty bottle of whisky, I guessed he lived alone. There were no files, though. I turned around when I heard a whisper. It was Harry. I walked over to him and looked at the file before me. It was an MI6 file. Worryingly, it was my file. I looked at it and sighed quietly. He'd been doing his research. "Josh... You need to see this." Gabriel whispered and I walked over to him and looked at the wall before us. I felt my mouth gape at the sight. Bomb blueprints, layouts of buildings, pictures... It was there. I had forgotten my camera, though. I heard a light switch flick and everyone looked in my direction alarmingly. I signalled to run and we did. Quietly, we escaped the building.

We were outside on the grass when the first shot was fired. Harry, Drake and Gabriel dived to the floor. I was surprised Jake stayed on his feet. I didn't have much time to ponder this as we both dragged Drake and Gabriel to their feet, Harry getting up himself. Another shot rang out and I felt the air being cut in two just over my right shoulder. I ducked instinctively as they all climbed over. Harry grabbed my wrist and yanked me over the wall, both of us landing hard on the grass behind the wall. "Did he just shoot at us?" Harry asked. I nodded.  
"Certainly seems that way, huh?" Drake answered, surprising me.  
"Why?" Jake asked.  
"Because that was my file in there... And those layouts?" I asked them, catching my breath.  
"What about them?" asked Drake.  
"None of you recognised them?" I asked and rolled my eyes, taking off my mask and stuffing the balaclava in my pocket. "Oh for God's sake, you wander the bloody halls every day! Those layouts were of Teringham."


	11. Home: Consequences

After the robbery, we all reconvened the next day, in Jake's garage. "You think he's a terrorist?" Jake asked me.  
"If he is, there's only one group I can think he'd belong to." I said.  
"Red Moon? The guys who kidnapped you?" Drake asked. I nodded.  
"Yeah, it'll be them... Hang on, I need to make a call." I got up, dialled and waited for the answer. Finally, someone picked up. "Mark?" I asked quietly.  
"Josh? Yeah, it's me... What do you want?" He replied, his voice as soft as mine.  
"How many Red Moon are still in operation that we know?"  
"Well, there was five we knew. One gave himself up, two were shot dead the day after the blasts in Paris..."  
"What about Dunnington?" I asked, finally able to ask the question that had bothered me since I came back.  
"Clean-up crews found his body. Died in the blast." Mark said.  
"How did they know? Corpse would have been a charred mess." I said, frowning.  
"Dental records. His teeth, his body."  
"What about the other one?" I asked.  
"Never found him. Still at large, as far as we know."  
"Operatives anywhere near to finding him?"  
"We don't think so..."  
"Approximate location?" I asked and I heard Mark sigh.  
"I've already told you too much..."  
"Alright, thanks... Bye." I said and hung up. The others looked at me questioningly. "MI6 knew of five Red Moon operatives. Four of them are dead, including the one who kidnapped me. That means one is still at large." I said.  
"You think it's Roberts?" Jake asked. I frowned slightly.  
"No, I don't. Mark would have at least told me if he was near to me."  
"Maybe he doesn't know?" Jake asked and I looked at him.  
"I don't know... Let's keep an eye on Roberts for now... We can do no more than that."

Two months later, we had gotten no further in our enquiries. We watched Roberts from afar, but neither approached the other. Soon enough, without me realising, it was my birthday. I recieved the money gift off my parents and hugged them tightly, smiling. My cards were stacked on the table. I left for school. Thinking about it, I just left. I said goodbye but I just left. I wish I'd done something more... Just something. Said I loved them or that I'd care about them but I didn't. I just left. I went to school as normal. I saw my friends, some of whom had actually got me cards, others who simply rewarded me with a 'Happy Birthday'. They sang to me in class, which left me feeling embarassed but it was nice, I suppose. Me, Jake, Drake, Gabriel and Harry, henceforth known as the 'Skeleton Crew', met at lunchtime, in the library. "Anything happen with Roberts today?" I asked and they shrugged, shaking their heads. "Alright then." They got up and left. Just before he left, Drake turned to me.  
"Happy Birthday, Josh." He said and smiled at me. I smiled back.  
"Thank you." I said and nodded. He walked off.

The school day finished. I got off the bus and began my journey home. Throughout my small stroll, I thought of how easy it was to break in, something which hadn't occured to me until now. It had been much too easy, but why? I pushed that thought out of my mind. I turned a corner, my house distantly coming into view. I stopped as I saw it. Even from my viewpoint, I could see my front door, hanging loosely by one hinge. Then, I saw the black cars. I had a horrible sense of doom. I began running towards my home. I sprinted full on towards it. I jumped over my fence and into the house. Bullet holes littered the walls. I felt my mouth gape open. I looked at the mirror, the glass shattered over the floor. I felt my every instinct telling me not to enter my living room. I already knew what lay there, but I had to see. I had to see it. I stepped in and dread flooded my bones. They were there. Lain there. Dead. My mother, dead. My brother, dead. My father, dead. I felt a deep shock set in my body. My family were dead. My body staggered as I thought about it. Dead. Dead. Dead. They were all dead. I sighed and then, even though I considered it impossible, more dread filled me. Someone, clad in black, stepped forward. My eyes flew to the man's chest, as I saw an embroidered enflamed leaf with a drop of blood on it. I looked back at the man "You killed them." I said, no emotion in my voice. I felt hollow.  
"Yes. I did." The man said and I sighed.  
"Why?" I asked, though I knew the answer.  
"Because I was paid to." He said. "And now I have to kill you." He said and levelled his gun at me. I nodded and almost embraced death. Then I caught something. Graffiti on my wall. 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CONLON. RML'. I growled and leapt at the man. The message had been written in my family's blood. I leapt and threw a punch at him, knocking him flat. Before he could get up, I grabbed a lamp and shattered it over his head. He fell, unconscious. I grabbed his gun. He wasn't alone. I could tell that by two things. One, the fact there was a number of cars outside and Two, I could hear more cars arriving. I ran for my front door, shooting at a car that pulled up, not hitting anyone but causing them to duck. I sprinted down my street. I heard a shot and tried to duck but ended up rolling, landing behind a car. Snipers. I growled. I felt so angry. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins as gunfire reined upon the car I was hid behind. I knew that, before long, the entire village would be awake. I then remembered domestic cars weren't invincible. I ran from that car. Just in time, too. Nary ten seconds had passed before it exploded. It exploded from underneath, sending it somersaulting through the air, landing next to a group of the assassins. I brought up the gun and shot at one, hitting him in the leg. I then dived aside as more gunfire reined down. I rolled, got back up and continued running. I reached a corner and rounded it. When I looked up, I noticed something. The streetlights had gone out. These people were professionals, unfortunately for me. I ducked as more gun fire crumbled the sides of the wall. I kept running.

Before long, I reached the bridge across the small river. I turned back and looked back at the assailants, who had faded out of view. That being said, it was pitch dark. I heard footsteps in front of me and aimed my gun at the dark figure.  
"Put the gun down!" I heard a familiar voice. In my state, I couldn't place it.  
"Why, so you can shoot me in the head?" I asked loudly, my voice hoarse. I saw the figure's gun lower slightly.  
"Josh?" He asked. I frowned.  
"Mark?" I replied. Mark stepped out of the shadows.  
"What's happened?" He asked.  
"Th...They killed my family." I said, my vision beginning to daze.  
"What?" He asked, obviously thinking he hadn't hear right.  
"They're dead, Mark... They killed my family." I said and he sighed. Then, I passed out. The last thing I remember from that night is Mark running towards me.


	12. Hospital: Lost

I was back in hospital again. I woke up, as if broken. Truly, it felt like I was. My bones ached and I could feel dried blood. There was also the tight sensation of the bandage around my torso. I looked up at a shadow looming over me. It was Mark. "What happened?" I asked quietly. I knew that my family were dead. I knew I had been chased down. I meant what came immediately afterwards. Mark did know this.  
'After you collapsed, a car came up the road. Armed men came out... They shot at us. We shot at them but they got away. You were brought here. We don't know who the gunmen ar-"  
"I do." I cut him off. He looked at me. I shrugged "There was a talk on at MI6 headquarters... Assassin crests. The people who attacked me were Scorched Leaf." I said and Mark raised his eyebrows.  
"Scorched Leaf? They were believed disbanded." He said, speaking more to himself than to me.  
"Evidently not." I said, sighing. I felt empty. I felt tired. I felt... Everything crashing down around me at once. My family were gone. I was alone. "Who did this?"  
"We don't know. We have men looking into it, though. I'm looking into it." Mark told me. I nodded and got on with my next worry.  
"Who am I going to live with?" I asked and Mark smiled slightly, though it looked at little forced.  
"Your friend Drake said he'd take you in... After I told him what happened, he practically jumped at the chance... He cares about you a great deal." He said and I smiled.  
"Yeah, that sounds like Drake." I said. I sighed. "He the first you asked?" I asked, wondering how many people knew.  
"Yeah, pretty much." He said.  
"Pretty much?" I pressed.  
"Well, originally, I was going to take you in myself. Blunt crushed that idea. He said that 'Agents must not have personal connections.'"  
"I'm not an agent." I said, confused. Mark looked at me, already knowing what was in my head.  
"But...?" He asked and I looked him dead in the eye.  
"I want back in." I said and he nodded.  
"Precisely." He said and smiled at me "Your 'Skeleton Crew'? Stick with them... They could come in handy." He said and I blinked.  
"How?" I asked and he tapped his nose, grinning playfully. I smiled slightly. Then he left. My smile disappeared. It turned to tears, that I were slightly glad of. Crying meant I wasn't emotionless. I cried for a good two hours. The tears cleansed me. They made me feel stronger.

Another hour passed. Little happened. Then, as I was beginning to think of sleeping, I heard the door burst open. I knew automatically who it was. The Skeleton Crew approached me, all running. "We thought you were dead!" Drake said. His usual playful smile gone, concern and sadness replacing it. I smiled sadly.  
"I slightly wish I was..." I said and they frowned at me. I looked at Drake "So. You're stuck with me, then?" I asked him and he smiled, though it was obviously forced.  
"Stuck isn't the right word." He said. I shrugged.  
"Lumbered? Burdened?" I asked and he smiled softly, this time genuinely.  
"I'm glad to have you." He said and I smiled slightly. Gabriel walked over to me.  
"W-We thought you were dead." He said, tears forming in his eyes. I smiled, slightly forcedly.  
"Well, I'm not." I said, groaning. I sat up. "How many people know?" I asked.  
"Everyone... Not the details, obviously... Just the fact that..." He trailed off. I nodded.  
"Alright... I'll be at school soon, I would have thought." I thought aloud. Jake nodded.  
"They won't keep you long... Get well soon, though." He said and they left. I sighed and went back to rest.

That night, I descended into a terrible nightmare. It was that night again. I was running but something was different. I wasn't running away. I was running towards the attackers. I was yelling, eyes coloured red. I was shooting and killing them all. I couldn't stop. I just killed and killed and killed. Then, when I was finally still, I looked at the wall before me, discoloured red with blood. The blood fell away, revealing three letters. RML.

I woke up, screaming and sweating. The nurse ran in, trying to calm me. I shook horribly and began to cry. The nurse held me down while a doctor sedated me. This time, I didn't fall into a nightmare. I just slept, though I was later told that I wasn't still for more than two seconds. Apparently, I tossed and turned all through the night. I don't know, I might have had a nightmare... I just might not remember it. I woke the next morning and felt more tired than I had the night before. My head pounded and my back ached horribly. I grunted and propped myself up on my elbows. I was in the hospital but it was dark. I was confused for about five seconds. I looked at my clock on my bedside table. 3:03 am. I groaned and got up, stepping unsteadily off the bed. I staggered, my legs apparently struggling with my weight. I steadied myself and grasped the drip, dragging it along with me. I walked silently out of the room, not disturbing anyone. I walked around until I reached the cafe, very few people inside. There was a doctor sitting at a table. He looked at me, confusion and concern lit up in his eyes. He was drinking coffee, or so it smelled. I took in the aroma and closed my eyes, savouring it. The doctor evidently saw this and smiled slightly, beckoning for me to sit down. I did as offered and he smiled at me slightly "Conlon, right?" He asked. I nodded.  
"Yeah, that's me." I said. He nodded.  
"Shock, yes?" He asked. I nodded. "I reviewed your file." He said and then I recognised him. He was the doctor who had sedated me. I smiled softly.  
"That hurt, you know." I said jokingly. He smiled gently.  
"You gave us no choice." He said. He had a slight Scottish burr to his voice. His voice was warm and welcoming. He looked as if he was just over fifty. He was greying slightly at the temples, giving him a wise look. He had soft green eyes, that looked as though he had been extremely sad for some time. His clothes, a doctor's uniform, were clean and straight. He ordered me a coffee, obviously deciding I was allowed. "My name's Dr. Alexander Drummock. Everyone calls me Sandy, though." He said.  
"I'm Josh... Though you know that already." I said and he smiled.  
"Still... Nice to be introduced." He said. I couldn't get over the look in his eyes, one of recovered sadness, possibly depression. He caught me analysing him and smiled, a little sadly. "My wife." He said and I blinked out of my trance.  
"Sorry?" I asked, fighting not to stammer.  
"My eyes... Everyone notices them. Very few are brash enough to ask outright." He said and his eyes took over a clouded look. "Five years ago. I worked here. She worked in the next town. We'd been together ten years at that point." He said and paused. I waited and, soon enough, he continued. "I called her over to the hospital. I... I was going to propose to her... She was named Rachel... Rachen Clandon. I moved here after I got a job here. I met her when we were both twenty-nine... She came in to do a story... She was a reporter, see. She was lovely. Red-headed, green-eyed, funny." He stopped again. This time, I waited a long time. "About half an hour after I called her over, I was told by one of my colleaques, a man named Edwards, that I needed to follow him. He ran and I ran... Instinct. I got to the room." His voice broke. "She was there. She was dying. She'd been in a car crash, a very serious one. A truck hit her car... It was a small thing, a hatchback... Never stood a chance. She died a minute after I arrived. Her last words were 'I love you'. I never got time to say them back." He said and I sat there open-mouthed, not knowing what to say. This man, almost a complete stranger, had just opened up the most traumatic event in his life for me to see. I felt humbled and, as I watched him crying, I knew what to do. I hugged him gently and he hugged me back. He sat up, rubbing his eyes.  
"I don't know why I'm telling you this..." He said and I sighed.  
"I do... I've been through the same sort of event... People with the same experiences gravitate and trust each other." I said and he gasped.  
"I forgot about that... Oh, God, what must you think of me? Blubbing about my wife when you lost everything." He said quietly.  
"Don't apologise to me. You seem a good person. You've been through intense grief. It's natural to cry..." I said.  
"Have you broke down yet?" He asked.  
"Not properly, no." I said.  
"You will." He said and stood up. "I have rounds... If you ever need to talk... Here's my card." He said and brought out a card, giving me it. He walked away. I sighed and looked at my coffee. It was cold, which surprised me slightly. Then, I was sure of one thing. For as long as I would live... I would never forget those eyes, nor the look inside of them.


	13. Home: Beginnings

The next day, I was off to Drake's house. He came to pick me up at one in the afternoon. My face was set in stone as I left. I had to struggle not to break my neautral expression set both in my mouth and my eyes. His parents seemed slightly awkward around me, wary. They looked as thought I may explode at any second. It was subtle, but noticeable. Sideward glances, muttered conversations while I walked with though I was interested in talking to Drake, half my ear was leant to what I could pick up of his parents' conversation. I couldn't pick up much, but what little I could was about me. It was about what had happened and whether I was putting them in danger. Drake had been listening in too, as I could tell when his expressioon faltered. I knitted my brows, though I didn't break my expression. His expression returned soon enough as we got into the Wolstenholmes' car. It was a reasonably comfortable family saloon. Drake tried whole-heartedly to get me to smile all the way to his house, but he very barely achieved his goal. That does of course mean he did achieve his goal. I did smile, though very slightly and very reluctantly. He seemed satisfied with that though and gave a small smile. I was slightly pleased I had made him happy. We arrived at his house and walked in. The hall was well-lit and well-furnished. It had a warm sense and a nice feel to it. This made me feel slightly guilty and quite awkward. I looked to Drake for reassurance and comfort and he smiled at me. "Come on, Josh!" He urged, leaping up the stairs. I could tell he was very excited. I wish I could have shared in his enthusiasm. I had a slight damper on my spirits, suffice to say. I was going to follow, when Drake's father, John, pulled me aside.

"May I have a word?" He asked, grey eyes studying me. I struggled not to falter under his gaze.  
"Erm... Sure." I said, nervously.  
"We have been told... About your occupation." He said and I expected him to say 'You will have no part in it.' but he didn't. "I urge you... Find the people that killed you family, so they don't come after mine." He said and I nodded.  
"Yes, sir." I said.  
"Don't call me sir, Josh... Call me John." He said and I nodded once again. He stuck out his hand. I shook it. I walked up the stairs but stopped at the top.  
"Thank you." I said and he smiled softly.  
"For what?" He asked, looking genuinely confused.  
"For taking me in... Not many people would do that."  
"Once Drake told us what had happened to you... We had to. You're a nice kid, or so we've been told." He said to me and smiled. "Now go on." He said. I nodded and went up to reconvene with Drake.

I walked into a room, where the door had been marked 'DRAKE'S ROOM' and smiled slightly. I looked around at the room, oddly clean. I don't know what I had expected but this wasn't it. The walls were white and clean, with posters dotted around. The room was neatly organised, with the TV and games console at the front. I blinked and he smiled, sitting on the couch underneath his bed. I sat with him, looking around. "Nice place." I said and he smiled a little brighter.  
"Thanks!" He said and I smiled, only slightly forcedly, back.  
"Where do I sleep?" I asked and his smile dropped.  
"Oh." He said and I smiled.  
"I'll take the couch." He smiled at me and turned on the game console, handing me a controller. We played for a good while. It made me forget, at least for a while what had happened. Not just the shooting, either. Everything. I felt normal again. At my house, I had always been doing research for various cases and surveillance projects. I hadn't felt like that since... Well, since before all of it had happened, with MI6, with Red Moon, with Scorched Leaf. It felt odd. It felt pleasant. I revelled in it, feeling as if I was free. As my phone pinged, I realised that was a lost cause. 'We need to meet. Intel on missing RM member. Pick-up tomorrow, W residence. M.' I frowned. I remembered soon after, however. There was a missing Red Moon member. My phone pinged 'Bring Skeleton Crew. M.'

The next day, Drake and I were picked up outside of his house. Mark had got a larger car, due to there being more of us. Harry, Jake and Gabriel were already there. I got in the passenger seat. "Hey, Mark. Have you lot been introduced?" I asked, looking back at them.  
"No, we were waiting for you." Mark said. I nodded.  
"Alright. Guys, this is Mark Reed. He's my handler. He's a good guy... Little lazy, though." I said and recieved a sideways glance from Mark in return. They all greeted him. "Mark, this is the Skeleton Crew." I said and watched him.  
"Nice to meet you. Good job on Lance Roberts' house, by the way." He said and smirked. The others looked at me, alarmed. I shrugged. "MI6 has eyes and ears eveywhere... Do me a favour. Stay away from Roberts." He said to me and I nodded.  
"Aye, alright." I said defeatedly.

We arrived at Mark's house. His wife greeted us quickly and Mark took us down to his basement. There was a desk in the corner with files stacked. There was a board in the corner and a profile on it, along with five cities. I blinked. Mark stood in front of us and began.  
"Karim Polk. Man of many names, hard to track. Thought dead. Recent intel gathered by an associate of mine proves otherwise. Josh, he was in Paris. We know he's Red Moon. Folder's on the table, read it later. There are five possible places he might be." He turned so we could see the board. I now looked at the cities.

-RIO DE JANEIRO, BRAZIL  
-NEW YORK CITY, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA  
-PARIS, FRANCE  
-FORT TABALCO, CARRIBEAN  
-DUBAI, UAE

I blinked at the board "Paris?" I asked. Mark nodded.  
"Right where it all began. Ironic people, Red Moon." He said. I nodded.  
"Fort Tabalco? I thought that was abandoned?" I asked.  
"Nope... Arial recon revealed it's crawling with..." He trailed off. I could see where this was going.  
"Scorched Leaf. That's their HQ?" I asked. He nodded.  
"Yeah... So. Where first?" He asked and everyone looked at me.  
"It's very nice in Brazil this time of year, isn't it?" I asked, my finger resting on Rio.


	14. Rio De Janeiro: Beginning of the Search

We boarded the plane the next day, having had matters sorted with the school. We were on a private jet, with George piloting. We all sat together, Drake, Harry, Jake and Gabriel looking about the plane in a sense of awe. Mark turned to us. "Alan doesn't know about this. We stay quiet in Rio... Don't make too much noise."  
"How good hearing does he has?" Drake asked. I looked at him.  
"He means-"  
"I know what he means... Seriously, though. How quiet do we have to stay?" He asked Mark.  
"Hmm... Well. Terms of engagement: Kill only if completely necessary. " He said. I think I was the only one who didn't palen slightly.  
"Kill?" Jake asked, though he didn't sound afraid, more curious. I looked at him, frowning slightly.  
"It might be the only way." I said and he nodded. "Alright. Mark, you have the folders?" I asked and he nodded, bringing out a briefcase, complete with seven folders. He handed one to each of us.  
"Alright." He said and opened his. "Here's your briefing. Karim Polk, dead by all accounts. Recent intel proves otherwise. We have pictures to prove it and a few of them place him in Brazil. They aren't time-stamped, so we don't know how recent or old they are. It's gonna be warm in Brazil, so keep that in mind. Blend in with the crowd as best you can. Also, you'll see a symbol in the bottom left corner of the first page. See that, tell me immediately. When we get there, we're going to a bar. Frequent haunt of Polk's, or so we're told. Anyone over fourteen is allowed in, so you'll be fine." He said. I looked at the symbol. Scorched Leaf. "Nice place. Visited there in 2003. You can get drinks, but no alcohol. Coke, lemonade, sasparilla, anything like that is fine. See Karim, tell me. Oh, also, it gets pretty hectic in there. Take these. They're sort of upgraded earpieces. Their batteries'll last you a few days non-stop. If we get seperated, don't worry. I can trace you. App on my phone." He said and we took the earpieces he gave us. "We'll be here in an hour. Josh, help them put them on." He said and I nodded, already having put mine in. I set to work getting Gabriel's put in, as Mark did the same with Drake. Afterwards, I set to work with Jake's, Mark doing Harry's.

We arrived at the airport. As we stepped out of the plane, the sweltering heat hit us. Even at this season, it was still extremely warm. I gasped hot air down my throat, already beginning to sweat. "George is getting people to take our stuff, so don't worry. Let's just get to the bar." He said. "It's about ten minutes' walk from here, so that's what we'll do. Get a better look of the place." He said and I nodded, walking with him, the others talking behind us.  
"You sure we're safe here?" I murmured to him.  
"Well, yeah. Barman's an old friend of mine... We'll be alright." He said and I nodded.  
"Alright, good." I said and slowed my pace, so as to walk with my friends. "So... Liking the experience so far?" I asked and Drake smiled.  
"Yeah! It's been good!" He said and I looked at the others. They were all smiling. I couldn't help smiling back, it was contagious.  
"This mission seems like a holiday. Odd for it to be like that." I said, looking around.  
"Enjoy it! You could do with a holiday!" Harry said to me and I nodded.  
"So could we all..." I said and we conversed a little more, until we arrived at the bar. Mark told us to turn our earpieces on but turn them off if we were talking to someone directly. The minute we stepped in the door, we got seperated by a wall of people. Mark was swept away with Gabriel and Jake. Harry, Drake and I were swept in another direction. I grabbed them both and kept a tight hold on them as the crowd pushed me. "Mark! What happened?" I asked, as if I was speaking normally. He'd be able to hear me through the earpiece.  
"I didn't expect it to be that quick, if I'm honest." He replied.  
"Oh, didn't you? Less hectic when you were last here?" Drake asked and I smiled.  
"Yeah, sorta." Mark said. "Just mingle." He said and I nodded. A girl passed by, looking no older than us. She was slender and dressed in a red skirt. This caught Drake's attention and he began to follow. I grabbed his jacket.  
"Er, no. Eyes on the mission, Wolstenholme..." I said, laughing.  
"He said mingle!" He protested. I groaned.  
"Ugh. Fine." I let him go. "No funny business though. We're here for most likely less than a week." I said and he walked off. Harry looked at me.  
"We sticking together?" He asked me and I shrugged.  
"Go, if you like. I'm a word away, though." I said and he nodded, walking away. I wandered over to the bar. There was a boy leant there. He looked a little older than me. He was caucasian, nicely-set and slender. His eyes were brown, his hair the same shade of chestnut. I smiled at him. He smiled back. I leant next to him. "Noisy place!" I shouted, pretending to itch my ear, where I was really turning the earpiece off, so not to disturb the others.  
"I know! My father owns this place! You get used to the noise, don't worry!" He yelled back. I nodded and ordered a Coke. The boy told the barman that I drank on the house. I blinked "Thanks! Why such kindness?" I asked.  
"You seem a nice person... What's your name?" He asked in reply.  
"Josh! Josh Conlon! Yourself?"  
"Pedro! Pedro Lloyd!" He replied.  
"Lloyd? Not very Brazilian... Or Spanish, whichever." I asked, frowning.  
"Father's British! Mother had pick on my first name." He explained.  
"You speak good English!" I said.  
"Thanks! My dad taught me!" He said and I looked to my side, where Jake was now leaning, looking slightly out of breath.  
"You look roughed up, Arthurs!" I shouted and he looked at me, too out of breath to make a facial expression.  
"Yeah, well! Gabriel and Mark got seperated from me. Bloody close to being trampled a few minutes ago!" He yelled back. I tapped my ear and he nodded, switching his back on. I turned my own on.  
"You alright?" I murmured.  
"Fine... Little out of breath." He replied.  
"Come on... We'll get outside for a minute." I said and then relayed onto the channel "Me and Jake are going outside! Come if you like!" We made our way through the crowd, wrestling to get outside. When we finally got outside, the air was surprisingly cool. The streets were still a-bustle. Jake sat on a crate that was near the wall. I leant against the wall, breathing in the cool air. It was dark outside, but not so much that we couldn't see one another. "Sure you're alright?" I asked, concerned.  
"I'll be fine." He said, just as Gabriel, Harry and Mark burst out of the room.  
"My God! It's bloody chaos in there!" Mark shouted, still adjusted to the noise inside.  
"You two alright?" I asked, looking at Gabriel, who looked tired.  
"I'm knackered, Josh." Mark said.  
"Alright. Take Gabriel, Harry and Jake back with you. Me and Drake'll stay here for a while... I'll get him back." I said.  
"Where is Wolstenholme?" Mark asked me.  
"Last I saw, talking to some girl." I said and he looked at me purposely. "I told him, don't worry. We're not going to get anything tonight... Too late and crowded. I've associated myself with the son of the owner of the bar." I said and Mark nodded.  
"Good." He said, beginning to set off. He turned to me. "Keep Drake out of trouble will you?" He asked and I nodded.

I re-entered the bar, searching for Drake. I found him sitting at the bar, smiling slightly. "What happened to you?" I asked and he looked at me.  
"Oh, nothing. She left." He said and I nodded.  
"That it?" I asked him.  
"Yeah, that's it. We coming back tomorrow?" He enquired.  
"Yeah, we are... Like the place?" I asked, ordering a Coke for myself.  
"Yeah, it's nice..." He said as Pedro walked over to me.  
"Thought I saw you!" He said to me.  
"Yeah! I think me and Drake should be leaving! It's getting too crowded!" I said.  
"Come back tomorrow, alright?" He asked and I nodded.  
"We are, don't worry!" I said, as I took Drake's arm and lifted him off his stool. "Come on, Drake... Let's go."

As we walked back, I told him what little had happened. "It's mental in there." He said.  
"Just the place for a terrorist." I said, sighing.  
"You're right there." He said and laughed. "Her name's Christina."  
"What?" I asked.  
"The girl... She's called Christina." He said and I smiled. We began talking about the people we had come across. If we hadn't, I might have noticed the grafiti beside me, reading 'RML'.


	15. Rio De Janeiro: Respite

Drake and I arrived at Mark's hotel room, still talking. Fatigue was beginning to set in. We walked in and the others were still awake, talking. It wasn't spy talk, it was normal talk. Football, games, that sort of stuff. I was glad of it and proud of my friends, who had settled into this life rather well. "I'm guessing we're going back?" I asked. Mark nodded.  
"Yeah, but you lot can have tomorrow daytime off. No point in making you lot work... Well, there's a sort of point in making you work, Josh." He said and smiled playfully. I rolled my eyes. "Get some sleep." He told us and we seperated into our seperate rooms, sharing with one other. I was with Gabriel, Drake was with Harry and Jake was with Mark. Mark looked at Jake "May I have a word, Jake?" He asked as we left.

We awoke the next day on a bright, warm morning. Drake woke soon after me and I threw a pillow at him, and he blinked himself aware. I laughed and grinned, feeling oddly gleeful, despite recent events. He threw one back at me and I smiled, getting ready. He did the same, and we headed to breakfast. We met with the others, who had been there before us. They seemed to share the same expression. Even Mark seemed happy. "I don't need to work today... I can enjoy myself!" He said, practically grinning. My eyes caught on Jake. He looked a little downtrodden, but happy nonetheless.  
"So, we hitting the beach?" Drake asked, grinning. I looked around and nodded.  
"Sounds like a good idea... Go on... I'll catch up." I said and Mark looked at me, frowning.  
"You alright?" He asked. I nodded.  
"Fine... Go on, I won't be long." I said and he nodded, leaving with the others. I sat back and sighed, closing my eyes.  
"Thinking of James?" Mark asked. I opened my eyes.  
"I told you to leave." I said and he shrugged.  
"Yeah well... Were you?" He asked. I nodded.  
"He'd be right at home with this mission..." I said, thinking. He nodded.  
"Hmm." He begun. "Come on." He said, snapping me out of my reverie. "The others are waiting."

We got to the beach, but not before we bought a football from a shop. It was boiling hot and, even at that time, I was sweating through my shirt. I smiled slightly at the comfortable bustle around us. I smiled as I approached the others, who were spread out on a towel each. All of them were shirtless, and sunbathing. I looked at the blue sky, then at the nicely turquoise sea before us. I sat on the sand and thought a minute. The beach spread out for a long while, with small dunes and ledges running along. I nudged Mark. "What do you say we give the new recruits a literal run for their money?" I said, loud enough so everyone could hear. Mark smirked.  
"Hmm... Teams of three?" He asked and I nodded.  
"I'll take Drake and Gabriel, you take Jake and Harry." I said, grinning. The others looked at me. "Alright. We're going to play a little game. It's called run away from the other team but catch who you can." I instructed. "Gabriel, Drake, with me. Harry, Jake, with Mark. Seperate into your groups... Discuss tactics." I said and Drake and Gabriel walked over to me, Harry and Jake wandering over to Mark. I began jogging to a building, leaning on the wall. Drake and Gabriel followed. "I've played this game with Mark any amount of times with army squads... His tactics are always the same. Run but keep an eye out for the other team, then turn and catch them unawares. So what we do is, when chasing them, tell your positions. The other two will then flank." I instructed and then walked back over to Mark. We decided on the team channels for the earpieces, so we could communicate with each other teamwise. We also decided only to listen on the other team's channel if it was urgent. We all agreed and both teams split up to begin the game. I wandered over a dune with my two associates and, as soon as we were outside of eyesight, we began running. We stopped as we reached the building. "Right. Gabriel, you're the bait. Drake, you and me, hide." I said. Gabriel didn't look too glad about being the lure, but he agreed nonetheless. I saw crates stacked against a wall. I looked and Drake and grinned. He knew what I was thinking. "I'll climb first." I told him. He nodded and gave me a leg up onto the crates. I grabbed his hands and hoisted him up next to him. We were stood just beside a roof that had its floor shielded from view by a small wall. I climbed over it, Drake coming after me. We all turned our earpieces on and I told Gabriel "Right... Let's get on with it."

We saw it all from our improvised watchtower. Gabriel was standing, looking out over the hill. "They're on their way." He murmered and began to run. We waited until we saw them disappear out of sight and then jumped down. I smiled at Drake.  
"Shall we be o-" I began, before I was grabbed from behind. "Alright, you've got us, Mark." I said, still smiling.  
"We'll get him soon." Another voice said, a man who now stepped in front of me. My eyes were drawn to his chest, for good reason. For there, embalzened upon his lapel, was the symbol that was ingrained in my mind: That of Scorched Leaf.


	16. Rio De Janeiro: Standoff

**_Author's Note: I have changed something in the previous chapter that detailed the destinations of the missions. Tokyo has now become Dubai._**

I sighed and looked at the assassin before me. "Scorched Leaf. Should have known you lot wouldn't be far behind." I said, wishing I could tune into the other team's frequency. I couldn't, as my arms were pinned behind my back. "Come to finish what you didn't back at my home?" I asked. I saw Gabriel on a distant hill. He obviously saw our distress and ran off. I knew what he was doing. I looked at the assassin, smiling slightly. "What, cat got your tongue?"  
"There is a fifty million dollar price on your head, Conlon." He spat my surname. "I plan to collect." He said, smiling maliciously.  
"Fifty million dollars? Sheesh... You're never going to collect that... May I ask who has put the massive price on my head?" I asked.  
"You may, as long as you don't require an answer." He said and nodded to the man holding me, who grabbed my arms, turned to face me and sucker-punched me in the gut. I doubled over and groaned. I winced and Drake hit the floor soon after. We looked at the men, who were towering above us. "He wants you dead... Well, the exact phrase was 'I want his head brought to me.'." He told me and my heart rate increased. It couldn't end like this, not in the middle of a game... Not with Drake suffering because of me. "Should we kill his friend here first? Or make him watch as we cut Conlon's head off, then watch it bleed and his life extinguish?" He said and brought out a knife, before three almost simultaneous shatterings of glass brought the three men to the ground. I shielded my eyes from the sun, blinking at the three new figures before me.  
"Thank you, gentlemen." I said to Harry, Jake and Mark.  
"I really can't take you anywhere, can I?" Mark asked, smirking. He helped me up, Drake being raised to his feet by Jake.  
"Where's Gabriel?" I asked. Mark looked at me seriously.  
"I, erm... I thought he was with you." He said, sighing. I growled.  
"Give me a gun." I said. Mark blinked.  
"What?" He asked.  
"Oh, for God's sake. You two," I commanded to Jake and Harry, "grab a gun each off one of these assassins." I said. I grabbed one but Mark grabbed my arm.  
"What on Earth do you think you're doing?" He asked, looking at me, confused.  
"Look at their chests. Scorched Leaf are here. They killed my family. They are not getting Gabriel. We're going after them." I explained and Mark sighed.  
"Scorched Leaf?... Josh, you don't even know if they have Gabriel!" He protested.  
"Better to be safe than sorry." I said and he conceded.  
"Fine." He said. "Josh, show them how to do everything with the gun. Shoot, reload, put the safety on. Then, put the safety on and put it in your bloody trousers."  
"What about me?" Drake asked. I looked at Mark and gave Drake the gun.  
"You have the gun?" I asked him, my mind remembering something. Mark always carried two guns, just in case I ever needed one on-mission. I had chosen it myself. It was an M1911, with pearl-engraved grips. I had never used them. Mark brought it out and I couldn't help smile with pride. It had been polished to perfection. "Three years I've wanted to use this..." I said quietly.  
"Yeah, well... Don't be in a rush to use it too fast." Mark said, frowning.

After I had shown them the correct procedures, we hosltered them, putting them in the waistbands of our shorts or jeans. I sighed. "I last saw him heading East... Let's start there." I said and began jogging, the others following suit. I felt a horrid anger setting over me. "When we find him, if he's in their grips, get him out by any means necessary." I told everyone. "Only kill if necessary." The others, apart from Mark, palened slightly.  
"K-Kill?" Harry asked.  
"Aye... Kill. These are some of the most dangerous men in the world." I explained.  
"Where did you get that gun?" Drake asked Mark.  
"Hmm... Well, when Josh was inducted, he was told to pick a firearm, in case he needed it. There were revolvers, handguns, guns so small you wouldn't be able to aim, guns so big they wouldn't fit in his hand... He picked that one. Fired it a few times... He's a damned good shot." Mark told him. I looked back at them. Mark shrugged. "You are!" He said. I rolled my eyes, smirking slightly.  
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Jake said. I eyed him and frowned slightly. I walked over to him.  
"You alright, Jake?" I asked. He looked at me and sighed.  
"I'm fine... Just... Let's just get Gabriel back."

"Josh?" I heard a voice on the earpiece. "Josh, are you there?"  
"Gabriel?" I asked, loud enough so the others could hear. They turned their earpieces to my frequency. "Gabe, where are you?" I asked urgently.  
"Just outside the bar... Josh, they're here. They've surrounded me." He said and we all froze simultaneously.  
"Keep calm. If you're not in cover, get some... Then do not get up for anything." I said urgently. I brought out my gun and broke into a run. "We'll be there in just under a minute." I said, keeping both hands on my gun. The others followed suit. "Take your guns off safety... Looks like we got a skirmish on our hands." I said and arrived at the bar. It was empty, thank heavens. There were about ten men, all approaching a crate. I cleared my throat. "Excuse me, gents? I believe you're looking for me." I said. They turned and brought up their guns. "What, you gonna shoot me?" I asked and brought up my own, the others behind me doing the same.  
"That's sort of the plan." One of the other assassins told me. "Or would you rather I shoot your friend?" He asked and aimed a gun at Gabriel, who was now being held a a human shield by another Scorched Leaf assailant. I glared at him.  
"Lay a finger on him and you're dead." I said seriosuly, scowling. The assassin smiled maliciously at me and punched Gabriel, knocking him to the ground. I growled, my finger twitching, actually itching to shoot. I willed myself to stop. "What do you want?" I asked him. He shrugged and smiled at me.  
"You. Dead." He said and I gulped.  
"A-Alright..." I said and they all looked at me alarmingly. "You can kill me... Just let him go." I said, pushing down my worry. The assassin smiled at me.  
"He means that much to you?" He asked mockingly. "Fine... Have the whelp back... Jones, relieve Conlon of his weapons." He ordered one of the assassins behind him. The man apparently named Jones did as told, taking my gun off me. The assassin who seemed to be in charge aimed his pistol at me. He smiled maliciously and I shut my eyes. I waited for the second before he would fire. My instincts served me well and I thrust out my hand and shoved his hand aside just as the shot was fired. He missed, but only just as the shot hit the wall behind me. He growled and tried to bring his hand back around but I threw out my other hand and hit him in the face. He staggered back and the other assassins readied their weapons.  
"Guys? A little help here?" I said sideways to them, keeping my eyes on the assassins.  
"Josh, gun!" Mark said and a pistol slid next to my foot. I kicked it up into my hand. I aimed it at the leader.  
"Move and he dies." I said to all the assassins. "Drop your weapons and slide them over to my associates." They hesitated "I doubt you realise how much I would like to kill this man." I threatened. They slid their weapons over. "Mr. Reed, will you kindly cover these scumbags?" I asked.  
"Of course." Mark replied. I smirked at the men.  
"Now to business... Who runs Scorched Leaf?"  
"Go to Hell!" One of the replied.  
"Not if you get there first." I replied, clicking the hammer back. His eyes betrayed the fear his tone didn't. "Tell me!" I almost shouted.  
"Edward Flint." The man said, smiling maliciously. I paused.  
"Flintlock Flint runs Scorched Leaf?" I asked, having heard of the notorious criminal. I did not, however, know he ran Scorched Leaf.  
"You'd better believe it... Have you heard the song, Conlon?" He asked. I gulped involuntarily.  
"Every agent's heard the song." Mark said to him. I kept my eyes on the assassin, though I felt the fear betrayed in my eyes.  
"Sing it." The assassin told me.  
"Why should I?" I asked, incredulous.  
"Because he's going to find you... Better be ready." The assassin smirked. I glanced back at Mark.  
"_Flintlock Flint is coming to your house,  
Making a sound no louder than a mouse,  
He'll find you then he'll shoot you dead,  
Before you know it, you've a hole in your head.  
Flintlock Flint is coming to find you,  
Soon enough, he'll have your head_ too." The man sung, tunelessly. I grimaced slightly.  
"I'll make you a deal... You like money, yes?" I asked him. He furrowed his brows.  
"Yes..." He said, suspicious.  
"But you like life more, I'm guessing?" Mark asked. I smiled slightly We had done this before. The man froze.  
"Yes." He replied quickly.  
"Then leave now and you can live... Don't come near us anymore, alright?" Mark told him. The man nodded and began to walk away, his entourage following him.  
"Gentlemen?" I asked and they turned. "My gun." I said and the man who had taken it slid it over to me. I picked it up and gave Mark back his pistol. He holstered it and lookd gravely at me. "Today's been fun..." I said and turned to Gabriel "You alright?" I asked seriously. He nodded slightly.  
"Yeah... I'm fine." He said, quietly.  
"Just like Belarus, eh?" I asked Mark, smirking. He chuckled.  
"Just about." He said. "The bar'll be opening in a few hours... Let's get back to the hotel, get something to eat." He told us and we wandered back.


	17. Rio De Janeiro: The Shooting

We were in the bar. It was loud that night. We had split up again and me, Drake and Mark were at the bar, Pedro and Christina with us. We could see Harry, Gabriel and Jake from where we were. It was actually nice that night, but it wouldn't last. Something felt wrong that night, like something in the air felt off. The confrontation earlier that day had made me more wary. "You feel that Mark?" I asked into the earpiece. It was too loud to be heard otherwise.  
"Yeah... I have a bad feeling about this." He said, rubbing his stubble.  
"Have you shaved since we got here?" I asked him, frowning.  
"Oh... No, I haven't... Been too focused." He replied, sighing.  
"How much sleep have you had?" Drake asked.  
"About two hours... Since we got here." He replied and smiled wearily. I laughed quietly.  
"I can't get over this bad feeling." I muttered, mostly to myself. "We should get the others back... I feel like we're in danger." I said and we went to find the others. About ten minutes later, we all reconvened at the bar. We all talked, Christina and Pedro included. Out of pure happenstance, I glanced at the window, through a slit in the blinds. I saw something which pumped adrenaline through my system. A passing car drove past, the muzzle of a sub-machine gun. "DOWN!" I shouted as loud as I could, the words hurting my throat. People got the message and most of them hit the ground before the gunfire started. When the gunfire did start, there were instantaneous screams and those who hadn't before ducked. Pedro was behind the bar and simply ducked, whereas I grabbed Gabriel and Drake, who were the ones nearest me, and pulled them over the bar as I rolled over it, them doing the same. As I rolled, the glass behind the bar shattered as a hail of bullets hit it. I fell onto the shattered glass, more landing on my now-prone body. Gabriel was almost on top of me, Drake just beside me. Mark had grabbed Harry and Jake, doing the same as I had. Bullets attacked everything, walls, windows, bottles, glasses, even people. We all unholstered our pistols, Pedro even getting one out. We didn't dare fire, of course. I kept my head down as bullets hit the bar, almost going through. I winced as shattered glass cut into my body. The gunfire ceased. It had all happened in a few seconds.

I got up gingerly, my shirt stained with blood. My pistol was in both my hands, which were shaking. "Jesus!" I said, breathing in gulps of air. The others stood up, slowly.  
"Josh, you're hurt..." Harry said, seeing my quickly staining shirt.  
"Yeah. Not the first time, won't be the last..." I said and then raised my voice. "Is everyone alright?" I shouted to the bar.  
"My Roddy!" A woman screamed. I turned to Pedro.  
"Get an ambulance... And the police." I told him and he nodded. I vaulted over the bar. I ran over to the woman who had screamed. People were beginning to run out. I looked at the man apparently named 'Roddy' and sighed. He was bleeding bad, but still alive. I took one of his arms. "Mark! Help me!" I shouted and Mark ran over, helping me raise Roddy. Around the bar, I saw three others, just lying there. They were dead, I could tell that from a glance. "Damn." I muttered. We sat Roddy on a stool. "Listen, Ma'am? We need to go. Stay here, the ambulance is coming." I said and she nodded, seemingly in shock. I turned to the others, who seemed to be in complete shock. "We have to go." I said to them all. "Pedro and Christina, come with us." I said, hand still shaking, trails of blood running down it. Harry came over to me.  
"Josh you're hurt..." He repeated. I groaned.  
"I'm fine! It's just a few cuts!" I said, scowling. "Come on... Keep your guns ready... Christina, stay behind Drake... Drake, keep her safe." I said and groaned, looking at my shirt sleeve. It was almost completely red. "Bugger." I said and walked out of the back entrance. Mark walked with me.  
"We should have seen this coming." He said, angry at himself.  
"Oh no, we shouldn't have. We couldn't have seen this coming." I replied, though my voice wasn't too comforting. Truth be told, I was in massive pain but I'd be damned if I let it show. "Can you call George?" I asked. He nodded and got out his phone. I lingered a little, beginning to walk with the others. "You guys alright?" I asked them all. Gabriel looked pale, but otherwise unharmed, Drake had a small trickle of blood running down from his temple, Harry had minor cuts on his arm, Jake had a mild cut on his arm, which would probably leave a scar, Pedro was bleeding from the neck, due to a small cut and Christina appeared completely unahrmed. They all answered with a mumbled 'Fine'. I nodded, sighing. Mark stopped and hung up, muttering under his breath.  
"We can't get picked up tonight... Tomorrow morning is the earliest we can be." He said and I sighed.  
"Well, we can't go back to the hotel." I said.  
"Why not?" Jake asked.  
"Because Scorched Leaf just gunned down a bar with us in it, for revenge. They'll know where we're staying... Looks like we have to bunk on the street..."  
"You can stay with me!" Christina spoke up. I turned to face her.  
"We can't put you in that sort of danger-" I started, but was cut off by her.  
"They don't know you know me... Plus, we have enough space." She insisted. I groaned.  
"Fine... Thank you..." I said after a while. She smiled and grabbed Drake's hand.  
"Don't mention it." She said and I raised my eyebrows at Drake, who blushed slightly. I rolled my eyes slightly.  
"We need to stay off the streets." Mark said. He was approaching the corner. I stopped him and put a finger to my lips. He blinked and I looked round the wall. Two men, both Scorched Leaf were there, armed with assault rifles. I signed 'Scorched Leaf' as best as I could. He got the message and took cover at the wall. I did the same, me closest to the corner. The wounds were hurting badly, and blood was dripping from my hand. I grimaced and motioned to Mark '1..2...3' and we spun out, the others staying behind the wall. The men span and shot, though both shots hit the wall behind us. They were going to shoot again but we levelled our guns at them and they paused.  
"What do you want?" One of them asked.  
"How do we get out of here without being seen?" I asked urgently.  
"Like we'd tell you." The man said, smirking.  
"I will kill you if you don't." I replied, my face set with determination.  
"Yeah, right." The other laughed.  
"Maybe I won't, but _he _certainly will." I said, indicating Mark. The man's smile faltered.  
"I'm not telling you." He said, though his voice was unconvincing.  
"Mark... Kill them... Make it quick, though." I said, turning. Mark readied to fire.  
"Stop!" The man shouted. I smirked. My plan had worked. "I-I'll tell you." He said.  
"What're you doing, G?" The other man asked him.  
"Saving our lives." The man nicknamed 'G' replied.  
"Just tell us!" I almost roared. G blinked.  
"We haven't got people posted in any alleyway but this one..." The man told us. I nodded.  
"Thank you, gentlemen... Now, so you aren't killed by your paymasters, we should probably knock you out." I said to them. They looked at me alarmingly, but got the point.  
"Yes, probably..." G said and me and Mark walked over and attacked them briefly, knocking them unconscious.  
"Come on, guys." I said to the others, who were still hid behind the wall. "Christina, lead the way... Just stick to the alleyways." I said.

It took a few hours of tense moments, seeing Scorched Leaf operatives pass us, but we got to Christina's house. It was a manor house, with ample space. Her parents were concerned, but very co-operative. Me and Mark sat in the room we were to share. "Tonight's gone... Well." I joked. Mark looked at me, severity set on his features.  
"Polk isn't here... This was a trap." He said, sighing. "I should have known the minute Scorched Leaf showed up... We're heading home first thing tomorrow." He told me. I nodded.  
"Where next?" I asked.  
"Anywhere but Tobalco. We do that last." He told me.  
"Why?" I asked, curious.  
"Because, for that particular operation, I'm going to have to call in a lot of favours and it's going to take a few months of planning and preparation." He said. "We'll do New York next." He decided and I nodded. "We should tell the others." He said and left the room. I sighed and followed.

The next day, we were jetting off. Christina and Pedro were there to see us off. Drake was with Christina and they were exchanging goodbyes. I was stood with Gabriel, Jake and Harry, watching them. I smiled slightly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say Drake was in love." I said and Jake smiled.  
"You never know..." He said and glanced at me. I chuckled.  
"Well, we almost died less than twenty-four hours ago, so you can hardly blame him, can you?" Harry replied. I nodded.  
"Fair point..." I said.  
"I'll come back for you, Christina." Drake told her, beginning to release her hands. He lingered, looking sad.  
"You'd better." She said quietly. I smiled and they began to drift. They were about to completely break apart, when they kissed. In unison, we all blinked and I smiled slightly. He left her, smiling sadly.  
"You'll come back, Drake." I said and he nodded.  
"Yeah, I will." He said and watched her leave in a car with Pedro. We all got on the plane and headed homeward.


	18. Home: Reunion

We were on the plane. I was still bleeding, though less so. Mark told me there was a medic on board and there was. Which medic, however, I couldn't believe. Dr. Alexander Drummock was sitting there. He saw me and blinked. "Josh?" He asked, disbelieving.  
"Drummock?" I replied. Mark looked between us.  
"You two know each other?" He asked, frowning.  
"Sort of." Drummock replied. "Now, who needs patching up?" He asked. The words were barely out of his mouth, before Harry spoke up.  
"Josh does!" He said, before I could stop him. I sighed and met Drummock's eye.  
"What's the matter?" He asked.  
"I'm a little cut up, that's all." I replied, quietly.  
"Where?" He persisted.  
"Shoulder, I think." I replied, keeping my face straight. I had changed my shirt the previous night, so the sleeve was mostly clean, apart from some small drops of blood.  
"Take your shirt off." He told me and I looked around the room, suddenly feeling self-conscious.  
"Can we go somewhere else?" I asked quietly. Drummock nodded.  
"Yes... Come on, then." He stood up and walked into the toilet area.

After he had checked and helped my injuries, I wandered back into the cabin and sat down. I felt eyes on me and I turned to find the source of the feeling. I saw Gabriel sitting a little away, watching me with worried eyes. I raised my eyebrows. "What? What's up?" I asked.  
"Y-You didn't look hurt... When you were bleeding." He said quietly. "Why?"  
"Because pain only wins if you let it... I don't show it, it hurts less." I said, shrugging, which hurt my arm slightly.  
"Oh... Does that work?" He asked. I smiled playfully at him.  
"Nope." I said and he nodded, smiling despite himself. I laughed quietly. "You tired?" I asked. He nodded slightly.  
"A bit." He confirmed.  
"Get some sleep. We've got a few hours, yet." I said and he nodded. I stood and walked over to Mark. He looked at me seriously.  
"You alright?" He asked. I nodded slightly and smiled softly.  
"I'll live a while."

We reached the airstrip nearest the school and went to lessons, though school was almost finished. We had one normal week before we jetted off for New York. The week was... Uneventful. I loved it, though. The calm chaos of the schoolground, the constancy of my friends, the ones who weren't in constant danger. Emma, Eleanor, Nathan, Adam, Jos, Isaac, Matthew, Billy and all of them. My classmates, the same old class. It was paradise. Normality. But... As all paradises do, it had to end. And so I found myself at the airstrip once more, with the Skeleton Crew with me. George was soon to arrive. I sighed, feeling uneasy. I heard a car coming near and my heart jumped. "Are we compromised?" I asked Mark. He smiled, but didn't answer. "Mark!" I said, hushed, before the car pulled up. I couldn't see the driver or the passenger. I felt suspicious and I could tell the others were too. Mark, however, was a picture of smugness. The doors opened and I felt rooted to the spot, until a figure I recognised immediately emerged. "James!" I gasped. I regarded the blue-eyed boy before me, his blonde-locks shining in the sunlight. A smile lit up his face and his eyes lit up with the same joy. Without really knowing it, I broke into a sprint towards him. He began running too, grinning. We met within a few seconds and pulled each other into a bone-crushing hug. "I thought you were dead!" James whispered to me.  
"I hear that a lot..." I whispered back, smiling. He laughed quietly and hugged me a little tighter. "I missed you..." I whispered.  
"I missed you too." He said and we pulled apart, looking at each other slightly awkwardly. "So, erm... How've you been getting on?" I asked and he smirked.  
"Oh, I've been alright. Things have been crazy at home. Dad's been busy... It looks like I'm going to be too." He said, almost as an afterthought. It took me a minute to work out what he meant.  
"Wha-No! You aren't putting your life on the line for me!" I protested.  
"It looks like I am, whether you like it or not." He told me, smiling. I sighed.  
"Fine... Becareful, though." I muttered.  
"Says you!" He joked, smirking. I smiled despite myself and began to wander back to the others, where James' father, Robert Stainton, was standing with Mark. They were all watching. My friends, looking confused, and Mark and Robert, smiling. I smiled, slightly abashed. When we arrived over to them, I indicated James.  
"Erm... This is James Stainton, a good friend of mine. I've known him a long time... And it looks like him and his father are going to be joining us on our... Expeditions." I said. I watched my friends eye James up and down and raise their eyebrows. I couldn't help but smile and beckoned Mark over as James walked over to them. He walked over, smiling. "You set this up." I said, stating it, more than asking it.  
"Yeah, I did. You said in Brazil you missed him." He said and I nodded.  
"Thank you..." I said and he nodded.  
"You remember when you two first met?" He asked and I smiled at the memory.  
"I'm not likely to forget."

* * *

ONE YEAR EARLIER

London. A place of wonder and mystery... For most. For me, it was the same place of secrets, lies and deception that it always was to people of my profession. Everywhere I looked, I didn't see ordinary people. I saw people who had the power to make lives... And end them within a heartbeat. Human beings may seem peaceful to other humans but to spies? To spies, fellow humans were potential enemies, potential opponents, potential targets. Mark Reed, my handler knew this too. I could see from his eyes, untrusting and wary. Not of me, but of the men in the room with us. I turned from the window we were both looking out of. "Hello, gentlemen." Mark said and turned as well. "I see you accepted MI6's invitation for parley." He said and sat at his desk. I sat at my chair in the corner, watching the men. The men eyed me.  
"Who's the kid?" One of them asked, a bald, grey-eyed man. Mark narrowed his eyes at the man.  
"Josh Conlon, MI6 agent." I replied, taking pleasure in their confused looks.  
"Train them young, don't they?" The other asked, a man with chestnut hair with likewise eyes.  
"My training has nothing to with this." I told them, keeping my voice even. "Agent Reed, do you mind if I take my leave? I believe I'd like to take a little walk." I asked. Mark nodded.  
"Sure, Agent Conlon. I'll call you when you need to come back." He said and I nodded, leaving the room.

I wandered the corridors for a little while, the modern interior not really fitting the rustic exterior. I liked it well enough, though. The people were nice and greeted me when I passed. "Conlon?" I heard a voice ask. I turned to see Robert Stainton. I smiled at the familiar man, who smiled back. "Come here, Josh." He said. I nodded and went over. "Kelly's with the baby back at the house. I knew you were here today and I know there's no other kids around, due to Rider being on-mission. Plus, I know you two haven't really talked. So, I thought I'd bring in someone you might get along with." He said and indicated a blonde-haired boy of about my own age. "This is James... My son." He said and I smiled at the boy, slightly shyly. He smiled back, and I could tell he was a very confident boy.  
"Hi." He said. His eyes scanned me and I felt slightly exposed.  
"Erm... Hi." I replied.  
"Josh, you know London pretty well, now... Or at least this area. Why don't you two go and get lunch? I'll give you some money... Me and Mark'll join you when he's finished." He said and I nodded.  
"Alright... Shall we go to... I dunno, Speedy's?" I asked. Robert nodded.  
"Sounds good. Know your way?" He asked. I nodded.  
"Yeah, Mark takes me there for lunch." I confirmed.  
"Alright... On your way." He said, smirking.

We left the building and headed towards Speedy's. We were talking, though James was doing most of that. From what I could gather, James lived somewhere in Scotland, though he had been born in London and had an English accent. He went to a private school there, and was very well-educated. He wasn't snobbish, though. In fact, he was very down to earth. I had met private school boys before, when other agents had been eager for me to make friends with them. I don't know why, but most of them were. Mark found it odd as well but remarked that I had 'that kind of personality'. At the time, I hadn't known what he meant, but at that moment, I knew. I had a personality that people thought was... Lonely. Admittedly, I never really made friends with people outside of Teringham, but I never saw myself as _lonely_. Other people obviously did. I had met their sons and disliked them all. They were all rich, spoilt idiots and they repulsed me. James seemed different, though. He seemed nice enough and genuinely interested in me. His father had always been nice to me and had saved my life on almost every occasion I had had the pleasure of working with him. "My dad's told me a lot about you..." James told me and I smiled. "I know he shouldn't have but... He's very admiring of you and does genuinely care for both you and Mark." He continued. "If I'm honest, I wanted to meet you. I've met Rider... Don't like him much." He told me and I smirked. "Nice to see all kid spies aren't the same." He said quietly. I turned to him.  
"Well, as far as I know, there's only two of us... I get around more than him, though. He might have all the exciting missions but... I'm perfectly happy not being shot at."  
"That's funny... My dad says exactly the same." James replied and I laughed. We reached the cafe and I opened the door for him. "Thank you." He said, smiling and passed me, looking me up and down. Again, I felt exposed before his blue eyes. I gulped slightly and he smirked, though I guessed it wasn't at my discomfort.

I sat at a table in the small cafe and James sat opposite me. We made sure there was enough seats for the adults who would arrive soon. We talked a little more as we drank our drinks, me drinking coffee, him drinking tea. Soon enough, Mark and Robert did join us, and we ordered. We didn't talk about work, we weren't allowed. Instead, we talked about nothing in particular. Just things. In fact, there were mostly two conversations going on: Mark and Robert, and James and I. It was nice. It felt normal, which was always a nice thing. I liked James. I had decided that. I looked down at the table, smiling. Barely visible, an etching had been made. It looked recent. Back then, the letters meant nothing... I focused on it, curious as to what it said. RML.


End file.
